

HILDA 

OF THE HIPPODROME 








HILDA OF THE 
HIPPODROME 

BY 

DOROTHY CHARLOTTE PAINE 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
PENRHYN STANLAWS 



PUBUSHERS 

THE REILLY & BRITTON CO. 

CHICAGO 



Copyright, 1910 
by 

THE REILLY & BRITTON CO. 
All Rights Reserved 


Published September, 1910 




©CI.A:^689;i8 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTEB PAGE 

I Hilda Sings 9 

II Is It a Fairy Tale? 26 

III As Nice as Any Boy 43 

IV The Greatest Contralto ... 54 

V ‘‘Girls’ Dresses First^^ .... 72 

VI A Wonderful Night 79 

VII Hilda Breaks Down 92 

VIII A Truly Princess 101 

IX A Glimpse of Silvio 114 

X Behind the Scenes 125 

XI A New Joy in Life 139 

XII Silvio's Surprise 156 

XIII The New Act 170 

XIV The Oily Mr. Hepp 182 

XV Bitter Memories 194 

XVE The Lady in the Stage Box . 204 

XVII Mrs. Mortimer Pleads 212 

XVIII The Little Knight 222 

XIX Just a Song at Twilight . . .236 

XX The Broken Violin 261 

XXI “All Ashore!” 274 










HILDA 

OF THE HIPPODROME 


CHAPTER I 

HILDA SINGS 

HE street was quaint and 
narrow. The little girl who 
was walking slowly down it, 
was even more unusual. At 
first glance she presented 
an elfish appearance, not 
because there was anything weird in her 
face or figure, for she was physically per- 
fect, but she carried a baby in her arms, 
and one felt that, being so tiny, she should 
be protected instead of being the protector. 
She wore an old-fashioned bodice, and a 
full, short skirt of red. These once were 
of substantial homespun, but they had seen 
much service. Many neat patches testified 
to this. Her sleeves, stockings and ker- 

9 



10 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


chief were of coarse but spotless white. 
The kerchief was folded primly about her 
neck. Her shoes were of heavy German 
make, but she wore a Normandy cap. Al- 
together her appearance made a charming 
combination of German and French. 

Suddenly she paused. Just ahead she 
saw some tourists standing in front of a 
window where carved souvenirs were dis- 
played. 

Annette,’’ she cooed to the baby, 
‘^here ’s our chance. You must n’t let me 
be scared. I ’ve just got to do it.” 

Pressing her charge closer, she marched 
resolutely towards the tourists. Her heart 
beat faster, though, and within a few yards 
of them, she again paused. 

should learn by this time not to be 
frightened. People are so good. They 
always give us money,” she reminded her- 
self. 

But she was not reassured. The baby, as 
if conscious of her nervousness, began to 
cry. Then the mother heart drove out fear. 

‘‘There, there, Annette. Sister will sing 
for thee, ’ ’ she cooed. 


Hilda Sings 


11 


Patting the baby with one band, she 
crooned a little French lullaby. Her sing- 
ing was too low to attract notice, but the 
magic of her voice soon quieted Annette. 

Again she glanced timidly at the tourists, 
who were not conscious of her presence. 
She was no longer afraid; she was only 
modestly uncertain of her ability. 

^‘Dear God, please make them like my 
singing,” she prayed. 

Without further wavering she started to 
repeat the French lullaby, her voice swell- 
ing out full and free. 

With one accord the tourists looked 
around, and the hand-made work was for- 
gotten. 

The marvelous voice rang through the 
clear mountain air, attracting the attention 
of Mrs. Mortimer, a black-clad American 
lady. Once music had been the passion of 
her life, and so in the time of mourning 
she had fled alone to a foreign land hoping 
for consolation from some of the world’s 
great artists. Thus far her quest had been 
in vain. Her heavy grief was not lightened. 
It was the more remarkable that the voice 


12 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


of a little, unkniown girl seemed as sun- 
shine dispelling- the shadows. 

Interest and curiosity brought Mr|s. 
Mortimer around the corner. For a mo- 
ment, astonishment overmastered other 
feelings. It seemed incredible that this 
child could be the singer she sought. 

‘ ‘ How can that wonderful tone come from 
that little frame T’ she wondered. Pity 
was her next sensation. ‘‘She ’s nothing 
but a child herself. She should n’t be sing- 
ing thus.” 

Soon wonder and pity were forgotten in 
enjoyment. Being more familiar with 
French than German it was a pleasure 
merely to follow every word of the per- 
fectly enunciated luUaby. Mrs. Mortimer’s 
enthusiasm did not stop at this. She com- 
pared the little singer to a Cinderella, the 
magic of whose voice completely trans- 
formed her. It was the raiment befitting 
royalty. It made its owner worthy to pass 
from the hut to the palace. 

At the close of the lullaby, the girl smiled, 
with a pleading, wistful look that touched 
Mrs. Mortimer’s heart. It was a shock, 


Hilda Sings 


13 


therefore, when the girl paissed from per- 
son to person collecting small coins. 

^‘One with a voice like that should n’t he 
a beggar,” said Mrs. Mortimer, and her 
interest waned. 

This coldness was momentary. In grati- 
tude for what had been so generously given 
the girl began another song. It confirmed 
Mrs. Mortimer in her belief that she had 
discovered a child genius, and when the 
sifnger started away, she followed, until 
they were alone except for Annette. 

‘^Little girl,” she called in French, ^^I 
want to speak to you.” The child turned, 
curtesying demurely. 

Thank you very much, madame.” 

‘‘What is your name?” 

“Hilda Waif els, madame” 

She spake with so much dignity that Mrs. 
Mortimer feared that her interest might 
seem intrusive. 

“Why do you sing on the street, Hilda?” 
she asked gently. 

‘ ‘ To get money for food, gracious lady, ’ * 
answered Hilda, but there was no whine as 
of a beggar in her tones. 


14 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Are your parents living?’’ 

“Yes, madame.” Hilda was sensitive, 
and she felt that Mrs. Mortimer disap- 
proved. So she hastily added, ‘ ‘ My father 
used to make lots of money before he was 
crippled. My mother is n’t very strong. 
She earns a little by sewing, but there are 
many of us to feed, and we have such big 
appetites. Sometimes when we have hardly 
anything in the house, I pray God not to 
make me so hungry.” 

“Poor little girl, you ’re too young to 
have so much care. ’ ’ 

“Oh, madame, I ’m so glad I can help,” 
answered Hilda cheerily. 

“Who taught you how to sing, Hilda?” 

“Nobody, madame. Only my mother 
used to be a singer before she married my 
father, and she says my love of singing is 
from her. ’ ’ 

Hilda’s speech and manner did not ac- 
cord with her size, and Mrs. Mortimer could 
not repress a smile. 

‘ ‘ How old are you, Hilda ? ’ ’ 

“Thirteen, madame.” 


Hilda Sings 


15 


‘ ‘ Thirteen ? Impossible. Y ou look much 
younger. ^ ’ 

‘‘No one believes I ’m as old as I am.’^ 

The baby in Hilda ^s arms began to 
whimper. 

“I am afraid she ^s hungry. I must go 
home, madarne.’’ 

“Will you let me go with you? I want 
to see your mother. 

“The gracious lady will do us great 
honor by visiting us.’^ 

The quaint politeness of Hilda; her 
friendliness, and her marvelous voice had 
completely captivated Mrs. Mortimer. 

“I wish she were my child. With her 
voice, and the training I could give her, she 
would make a wonderful singer I know,’’ 
thought Mrs. Mortimer as she walked be- 
side Hilda. 

‘ ‘ There ^s where I live, madame, ’ ’ Hilda 
announced as they turned the comer. The 
house to which she pointed was very old. 
In fact it was the most dilapidated and the 
smallest in the neighborhood. The stucco 
had peeled off leaving the old bricks in 
wrinkled view and the tiled roofing had 


16 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


suffered from the ravages of time. Still 
the battered old house was more attractive 
than many of the others, partly because 
of its window boxes of flowers, their thrifti- 
ness bespeaking loving care. 

‘‘What pretty flowers you have, Hilda.’’ 

Hilda nodded her head, well-pleased. 

“Father and I love flowers. We grew 
many of them from slips, and I brought 
down some of the plants from the mountain 
side. Sometimes, madame, we have enough 
blooms to make nosegays to sell.” 

“Come right in, madame,” and Hilda 
opened the door. 

“Mother, mother, here ’s a lady come to 
see us,” she called 

A care-worn little woman came from a 
back room. 

“Mother, this lady speaks French. It 
will he pleasant for you to talk with her. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Mortimer observed Hilda’s pro- 
tecting air. She spoke as if she were the 
older of the two. 

A wonderful smile illumined Mrs. Wal- 
fels’ face. For a moment she looked 
young and pretty. 


Hilda Sings 


17 


^^Ah, madame, this is indeed a pleasure. 
Hilda knows what a delight it is to me to 
speak to' anyone in my own tongue. I hate 
German. Please he so kind as to step into 
this room.^^ 

As Mrs. Mortimer followed Mrs Walfels 
and Hilda, she had evidence of the poverty 
of which Hilda had spoken, but she also 
saw immaculate neatness on every side. 

‘ ^ I thought Annette was hungry, hut she 
has fallen asleep, ’ ’ said Hilda 

‘^ Take her to your father then. You ’d 
better stay with him. ’ ^ 

Hilda ^s face fell. It was a deprivation 
not to be able to hear what the strange 
lady would say, but she was obedient, and 
had no thought of demurring. She curte- 
sied to Mrs. Mortimer. 

‘‘I am so pleased to have met you, 
madame.’^ 

‘‘Hilda, I wish you would come to my 
hotel— The Goldener Adler— and see me. 
I get very lonely all by myself. Just ask 
for Mrs. John Mortimer. I shall love to 
see you any time.’’ 


18 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Thank yon, madame, I will surely 
come,’^ and Hilda departed. 

“I hope, Madame Walfels,’’ Mrs. Mor- 
timer began, as she accepted a seat beside 
her hostesis, ‘‘that yon will not consider 
my coming an intrusion, but— 

‘ ‘ Pray do not speak of it, madame, I am 
delighted.’’ 

“After I heard your little girl sing, I was 
so charmed with her that I felt I must know 
more about her. So I questioned her, and 
asked her to bring me here. I want to do 
something for Hilda. She is too young to 
be sent out with a baby. It will give me 
great pleasure if you will let me help so 
that Hilda shall not have to beg on the 
streets.” 

Mrs. Waif els drew herself up with un- 
expected dignity. “I do not call what Hilda 
does begging, madame. We artists do not 
look at singing in that light. I used to earn 
my living by my voice when I was a girl. 
True I sang in halls, and made more money 
than my Hilda does on the streets. But 
Grod knows I never gave as much as she 
does in return for what I got. She has a 


Hilda Sings 


19 


far better voice than I ever dreamed of 
having/’ 

‘ ‘ Hilda has a wonderful voice. She— ’ ’ 
began Mrs. Mortimer, but Mrs. Waif els 
was so excited that she did not heed the in- 
terruption. 

‘‘Madame,” she continued on the verge 
of tears, “if you gave her something for 
her singing, and do not feel that you had 
just returns, I pray you take your money 
back. Needy as we are, not one of us would 
want a single sou that did not justly be- 
long to us.” 

It was Mrs. Mortimer’s turn to feel 
humiliated. 

“Pray forgive me. I see now that 
Hilda ’s singing on the street is not begging. 
Even while I called it that, I felt she was 
worthy of something so much better that I 
was unjust. She is unusually gifted. I 
consider her a genius. That is why I fol- 
lowed her here.” 

Tears streamed down Mrs. Waif els’ wan 
cheeks. Mrs. Mortimer pressed the toil 
wrinkled hand nearest her. 

“I am sorry I have hurt you. I do not 


20 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


know what I can say or do to make atone- 
ment’’ 

Mrs. Waif els smiled. ’m not crying 
because I ’m hurt, madame. The words 
you just said give me more joy than any 
I Ve known since Hilda was bom. You 
can never realize what it means to me to 
have an educated lady like you say tbat 
my Hilda has genius. I ’ve been saying it 
for years, and I ’ve stuck to it although 
I ’ve been laughed at for my faith. My 
husband never did have much of an opinion 
of singing— at least not to make money by. 
His great aim was to make Hilda an 
acrobat like himself.” 

‘‘An acrobat!” repeated) Mrs. Mortimer 
even more horrified than she had been at 
the idea of Hilda’s begging. 

“Yes, my husband was an acrobat. 

That ’s how he was crippled. He fell from 
the bars. Before he used to make lots of 
money.” Then half in extenuation and 
half in pride, added, “I saw you were 
shocked to think of Hilda’s being an acro- 
bat, but acrobats are not like what you be- 
lieve. Before I met Fritz, I had a wrong 


Hilda Sings 


21 


opinion of them myself, but, madamc, they 
are good people. No one could have a bet- 
ter husband than my Fritz. He does n’t 
agree with me about Hilda, and he thinks 
it ’s the finest thing on earth to be a 
German, and I ’m always saying my coun- 
try is the best, and so it is. But even when 
I get angry he ’ll never quarrel. He ’s the 
best man I ever knew. After he was hurt 
he learned wood-carving, but he can’t make 
much at that. You can’t expect him to do 
as well as people who ’ve been carving all 
their lives. ’ ’ 

With her voluble French nature, Mrs. 
Waif els was glad of an opportunity to talk. 
She hardly drew breath between sentences, 
and Mrs. Mortimer was content to listen. 

‘‘But to go back to Hilda. If it had n’t 
been for her having a wonderful voice, I ’d 
have liked to have her an acrobat. It does 
seem as if she were fitted for that almost 
as well as for singing. Just see how small 
she is, and beautifully formed, and so 
strong. From the time she could walk, 
Fritz began training her. You ought to 
see the things she can do. Fritz says she ’s 


22 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


a prodigy. He thinks she ’d make a fortune 
for us if she were on the stage. 

There are greater things in the world 
than money/’ interrupted Mrs. Mortimer. 
‘‘Hilda ought to be a singer. No matter 
what other ability she has, her voice should 
be considered first. It would be wicked not 
to cultivate it.” 

Mrs. Walfels’ face beamed. “Fritz 
ought to hear you talk. I wanted Hilda 
to be a singer so much that when Fritz 
was hurt it seemed almost providential.” 

Mrs. Waif els looked appealingly at Mrs. 
Mortimer, and added hastily, “You know 
I don’t mean by that that I was glad that he 
was crippled. I was awful sorry, even be- 
fore I realized what a, terrible change it 
would make for us. But I thought, ‘now 
perhaps Hilda can be a singer!’ ” 

Mrs. Waif els sighed and shook her head, 
“Perhaps I was wicked, and am being 
punished for it. I ’ve seen since then that 
Hilda is no nearer being what I want than 
she was before. We never can do much for 
her while we ’re so poor. ’ ’ 

She brushed a tear from her eye. “I 


Hilda Sings 


23 


don’t mean to complain, madame. Even 
when I was saddest I did the best I oonld 
by Hilda. She speaks French like a Paris- 
ian, and my knowledge of music has been 
some help to her. Then, too, I made up 
my mind years ago to leave Hilda’s future 
with God. He gave her her voice, and if 
He intends that she shall be a singer, He 
will make her one no matter what hap- 
pens. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Mortimer hardly knew what answer 
she could make. Thus far she had acted on 
impulse. Before making any serious move, 
she wished to consider matters calmly. 

She held out her hand to Mrs. Waif els. 
‘‘I hope you will consider me a friend,” 
she said. Then she glanced at the old 
fashioned clock, and immediately rose. 

^Ht is later than I thought. I must be 
going, but I will come and talk with you 
again about Hilda. I do think her voice 
marvelous. Possibly I can do something 
for her.” 

‘ ‘ God bless you, madame. You put new 
hope into my heart.” 

Mrs. Walfels hurried toward the kitchen. 


24 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


and as she went, she hummed an air she had 
snng in her girlhood days. 

‘‘Why, mother is singing,’^ cried Hilda 
in happy surprise to her father. 

Big Fritz, once so strong and agile, was 
seated in his usual chair by the window. 
Accident had crippled his body but not his 
spirit. He smiled brightly at his wife, and 
his hands did not cease from work on the 
rude croiss which he was fashioning. 

“Ach! but I ’m glad to see you so happy. 
Hilda told me about your lady visitor. She 
has done you good. It brings a breath of 
summer joy into the room to hear you 
sing.^’ 

‘ ‘ How long since you have cared for sing- 
ing, Fritz? demanded his wife in sur- 
prise. 

“I always liked to hear the housefrau 
sing about her work. I never quarreled 
with singing then.’^ 

“Then why do you say Hilda should n^t 
be a singer?’^ 

Big Fritz put his muscular hand on 
Hilda’s dark head, but his touch was very 
gentle. 


Hilda Sings 


«5 


‘ ‘ She need years of training, and then 
she ’d have to go away.’^ 

^ ^ Well, if she were an acrobat, she ^d have 
to leave ns just the same/’ interrupted his 
wife. 

“Yes, but she ’d soon be making money 
for us, and we can’t get along without her 
help. Hilda ’s our mainstay.’’ 

“That ’s true,” agreed his wife with a 
sigh. Her air castle that had risen so high 
a moment before, now seemed a ruin. 

If Hilda had not been cheerful and brave 
like her father, she , too, would have sighed. 
She was more ambitious to be a singer than 
an acrobat. Still she would not repine. 
She intended to do her duty bravely no 
matter what came to her in life. 


CHAPTER II 

IS IT A FAIEY TALE ? 

HE next morning when Mrs. 
Mortimer came from the 
hotel, she was both sur- 
prised and pleased to find 
Hilda just outside the door. 
‘ ‘ I was beginning to fear 
you ’d not come this morning, gracious 
lady,’^ Hilda murmured. 

‘^Why did n’t you go inside and ask for 
me?” said Mrs. Mortimer. 

‘^I— I— that would have been too bold, 
madame. I just wanted to give these to 
you,” and Hilda shyly held out a bunch of 
freshly picked flowers. 

*^How lovely they are,” Mrs. Mortimer 
exclaimed as she took them. Then she 
drew a coin from her purse. ‘‘I remember 
you said you sold nosegays. I am glad you 
brought one for me to buy.” 

— ■ I can’t take money from you, 
26 




28 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


madame/^ cried Hilda in dismay. ‘^The 
flowers are the only way I have of thank- 
ing yon.’’ 

‘‘Of thanking me?” Mrs. Mortimer re- 
peated. 

“Why, yes, madame. You made my 
mother happy. After yon left, she sang. 
She had n’t done that before for years. So 
I picked the flowers after breakfast for you, 
“but she did not say that she had been 
watching for Mrs. Mortimer since six 
0 ’clock. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Mortimer no longer insisted on 
Hilda’s accepting pay. She felt that again 
she had blundered in regard to money mat- 
ters. Instead she drew Hilda to her and 
kissed her. 

“I really have n’t done anything for you 
yet, dear little Hilda, but it ’s very sweet 
your bringing me the flowers. I appreciate 
them very much. I was starting for a walk, 
and I wish you would come with me.” 

Hilda’s expression showed her longing, 
even while she shook her head resolutely. 

“I ’d love to go, madame, but I have n’t 
sung at all this morning.” 


Is it a Fairy Tale? 


29 


‘^How much will you earn if you don’t 
go with me, Hilda ? ’ ’ 

A business-like look came into Hilda’s 
eyes. 

^‘Well you see, madame, the mornings 
are not as good as the afternoons. Many of 
the tourists take trips up the mountains, 
and unless there are tourists about, I can’t 
make money.” 

Mrs. Mortimer smiled. ‘‘Well, Hilda, I 
am a tourist, and I will give you as much 
as you could possibly make, if you will go 
with me. Is it a bargain 

Once more Hilda shook her head. ‘ ‘ That 
would n’t be earning money, and neither 
father nor mother would like it. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Mortimer was beginning to realize 
the sturdy independence of the Walfels, 
and she admired them the more for it. 

“Hilda, I ’ll wager that you know all the 
prettiest spots around this country. Is n’t 
that so?” 

“Yes, madame, I know the country all 
about here.” 

“Well, I often engage guides to show me 
new places. So if you will act as my guide 


30 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


this morning, I will pay you five francs. 
What do you say now T^ 

Still Hilda hesitated. I don’t 

know.” 

‘ Hs n ’t five francs enough ? ’ ’ 

‘‘It ’s not that, madame, I seldom make 
more than two at the most in the morning. 
I ’m wondering if I could earn it honestly. ’ ’ 
“I am sure of it. So lead on, little Miss 
Guide.” 

Hilda smiled. “Oh, it ’s so much fun be- 
ing Miss Guide, madame. I hope you ’ll 
not be disappointed in me.” 

The child drew herself up with as much 
dignity as she could possibly command. She 
mtended to do honor to the occasion. 

“Madame,” she said with flourish of her 
hand to the right, and in the tone and man- 
nerism of a professional guide, “we always 
take strangers to our Cathedral. It is 
world-famed. In it are—” 

“Oh Hilda, spare me,” cried Mrs. Mor- 
timer, but this little bit of acting not only 
amused her, it disclosed more of Hilda’s 
artistic ability. 

“She is a good mimic. That will help 


Is it a Fairy Tale? 


31 


her if she ever has her voice developed,’’ 
Mrs. Mortimer thought. 

Hilda looked grieved. Truly, madame, 
I know as much about the pictures and 
carvings as any of the guides. I ’ve fol- 
lowed them around often. I can repeat all 
their stories. Please don’t be afraid to 
trust me.” 

‘Ht ’s not that, Hilda. I am tired to 
death of tourist sights. I want to go out 
into the country.” 

Again Hilda’s professional spirit re- 
vived. know just what madame wants. 
I will take her up the mountain to the won- 
derful—” 

‘‘No Hilda, that will not do either. I 
just wish to take a little walk to some quiet 
place where the tourists do not go. Now do 
you understand ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, madame,” answered Hilda meekly. 
For a moment she looked pensive. It was 
hard to give up her preconceived idea of 
a guide’s duty, but her desire to please con- 
quered professional pride. 

“I ’ve thought of the right place,” she 
cried exultantly. “It ’s a mile up the river. 


32 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


The water rushes over big rocks— not a 
waterfall like that up on the mountain, hut 
it ’s very pretty and quiet there. ’ ’ 

‘ * That is the very place for us, and just 
as far as I care to walk.” 

Hilda,” continued Mrs. Mortimer as 
they turned up one of the narrow side 
streets, ‘^your mother was telling me yes- 
terday about you. Would it make you 
happy to be a singer, as she wishes ? ’ ’ 

love singing better than anything else 
in the world, madame,” and Hilda’s face 
was so radiant that Mrs. Mortimer read 
the longing of her soul. 

‘‘But supposing your father gets a place 
for you as an acrobat? ’ ’ 

Hilda’s smile vanished but she answered 
firmly, “I love my father, madame. He 
thinks I could make a lot of money that 
way, and I ’d be glad of the chance.” 

Mrs. Mortimer realized again that Hilda 
was old for her age. She felt that she could 
talk to her as to a grown person, and that 
the little girl would reward any confidence 
with undertaking and sympathy. 

“You are a good girl, Hilda, but you 


Is it a Fairy Tale? 


33 


must be a singer. If I -were not leaving 
here the first of next week, I’d take you to 
Munich and have your voice tested.” 

^^You are going away, madamef ” 

‘‘Yes, dear, I must go back to my home.” 

“And where do you live, madame?” 

“I have a country home in America— far 
away from here, across the ocean.” 

Hilda glanced shyly up at Mrs. Mortimer. 
The lady looked :so sad that after a moment 
of hesitation, the child slipped her hand 
into that of her patroness. 

“I shall miss you, madame.” 

Mrs. Mortimer’s eyes were dim. “I am 
the one who will be lonely, Hilda. My 
husband is a busy man, so I see but little 
of him. My— my baby died just before I 
came abroad.” 

Hilda pressed her friend’s hand tenderly. 

“Oh, madame, I am so sorry, so very 
sorry.” 

Mrs. Mortimer was too deeply moved to 
answer. She walked on in silence, and 
Hilda knew that silence was best. 

The idea of helping Hilda had taken a 
strong hold upon Mrs. Mortimer, but she 


34 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


could not see how it was to be done unless 
she adopted the girl. There was a great 
obstacle to this course. Her husband was 
a morose man who disliked children. Even 
the loss which had left Mrs. Mortimer so 
forlorn, did not seem to grieve him. 

‘‘And what would he say if I brought a 
strange child home with meV^ she asked 
herself. 

They had reached the dark river on the 
outskirts of the town. Hilda looked 
timidly up, and she saw that Mrs. Mortimer 
was crying. She yearned to offer comfort 
but she did not see what she could say or 
do that would be of any help. So they 
walked on silently. 

“I canT sing to her as I do to Annette 
when she cries, ’ ’ Hilda thought. 

They came to a great rock and Mrs. Mor- 
timer paused. 

“I am tired,’’ she faltered. “I do not 
care to go any further. ’ ’ 

Hilda gazed at her wistfully. “I ’m 
afraid I ’ve been a poor guide, madame. 
Is n’t there something I can do for you?” 


Is it a Fairy Tale? 


35 


Her sympathy unstrung Mrs. Mortimer 
completely and she broke into sobs. 

Hilda hesitated no longer and flinging 
her arms around the grieving mother she 
cried, ‘‘I am so sorry, madame, I do so 
want to help you. Is n’t there something 
I can do, madame?” 

Mrs. Mortimer dried her eyes. 

‘‘Sing for me, Hilda. That will com- 
fort me. ’ ’ 

“Really, madame? Oh, I shall love to 
sing for you.” 

“I must hear her again before I decide,” 
was Mrs. Mortimer’s thought. 

But Hilda, happily unconscious of any 
ulterior motive, seated herself on the rock 
beside her friend. She clasped her hands 
in her lap, and looked up, smiling confi- 
dentially . 

‘ ‘ I always have Annette with me when I 
sing. It seems so strange without her that 
I think I ’ll have to make believe she ’s in 
my arms. Y ou don ’t mind, do you ? ’ ’ 

Mrs. Mortimer shook her head. She 
could not trust herself to speak. 

“She needs to be babied herself,” she 


36 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


thought, ^ instead of being always the 
mother. ’ ^ 

^ ‘ To-day by this river, madame, it seems 
as if I ought to sing in German. My father 
loves this land, and he has taught me many 
songs of the Fatherland. His native airs 
are the only ones he likes to hear me sing. 
Would the gracious lady be pleased to 
listen to some of these?’’ 

‘^Yes, indeed, Hilda,” said the gracious 
one, and thought, “I will not be listening to 
the words, and so I shall not let sentiment 
overrule my judgment of her voice.” 

At first Hilda, holding her arms as if a 
baby lay in them, sang a little German 
cradle song as softly and simply as when 
she soothed Annette to sleep, 

Mrs. Mortimer was a little disappointed. 
She was tempted to ask Hilda to sing louder 
but she waited and her forbearance was re- 
warded. 

Suddenly Hilda remembered for whom 
she was singing. 

‘‘Oh madame,” she exclaimed contritely, 
“I forgot. Pray forgive me, but my 
make-believe seems so real that I never 


Is it a Fairy Tale? 


37 



once thonght about yo-u. There, ’ ^ she added 
moving her arms over as if she still held 
a baby in them, ‘‘I ^11 place Annette be- 
side us here. She 's asleep now, and so I 
can sing just for you/’ 

Again Hilda clasped her hands in her 
lap. She gazed out over the quick flowing 
water. The next instant her voice swelled 
out full and free. 


38 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Mrs. Mortimer felt that the child was in- 
spired, and it seemed as if the spirit of song 
had floated np from the river and was find- 
ing expression through Hilda. 

‘ ^ She is a genius, I must help her, ^ ’ vowed 
the listener. 

Hilda,’’ she said aloud when the girl 
looked around to see if her singing had been 
of any comfort, wonder if you know 
that your voice is a gift from Grod?” 

‘‘Why, yes, madame, I know that for it 
often keeps us all from starving,” answered 
Hilda, unconscious of the real significance 
of her friend’s question. 

‘ ‘ Sing me another song, Hilda. ’ ’ 
Unhesitatingly Hilda obeyed. Mrs. Mor- 
timer’s heart melted more and more. Each 
moment her longing to keep the girl with 
her always grew more intense. The sing- 
ing took her out of herself. She knew that 
she ought to speak to Hilda’s parents be- 
fore she did to their daughter, but she did 
not heed the voice of prudence, and at the 
close of the song she caught Hilda by the 
hands, and drew her close beside her. 


Is it a Fairy Tale? 


39 


Hilda, how would you like to go to 
America 

to America, madame?’^ Hilda re- 
peated in wide-eyed* astonisliment. 

Yes, Hilda, so tliat you could be a won- 
derful singer.’^ 

Hilda’s eyes grew rounder and rounder. 

‘ ‘ Madame, do you really mean that I can 
be a great singer!” 

^‘Yes, Hilda, I am sure of it.” 

‘‘Ah, madame, it ’s too good to be true. 
It will mahe my mother so happy. But, 
no,” she added with a sigh, “it cannot be. 
I have no way of going to America.” 

“But suppose I took you, Hilda!” 

“You, madame!” 

“Yes, I want you to be my little singing 
girl. You shall study in America until you 
have learned all you can there. Then we 
will come back to Europe for teaching of the 
masters. If you like my plan, kiss me, 
dear.” 

Hilda threw her arms rapturously around 
Mrs. Mortimer, then drew back, for she re- 
membered. 

‘ ‘ I cannot go, madame. Father said only 


40 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


yiesterday that I am the mainstay of the 
family. I just must make money for them. ’ ^ 

‘‘I will leave enough money for them, 
Hilda.’’ 

This offer did not relieve Hilda’s mind. 

‘‘They would n’t take it, madame, and 
it does n’t seem right even to me.” 

Mrs. Mortimer felt that she could rea- 
son with Hilda more easily than with Mrs. 
Waif els. So she drew her gently toward 
her and looked into her troubled eyes. 

“My dear little girl, if you think best, 
I will advance the money as a loan. ’ ’ 

“A loanf” repeated Hilda, frightened 
by the word. 

“Yes, dear, and then when you begin to 
make money by your singing, you can pay 
me hack.” 

“But, madame, supposing I never could 
pay you back?” 

Mrs. Mortimer smiled. “If you come 
with me, you will surely succeed. You will 
have more money some day than you will 
know how to spend, and you will be able to 
keep all your family in luxury the rest of 
their days.” 


Is it a Fairy Talc? 


41 


‘^Madame, are you telling me a fairy 
tale?” demanded Hilda breathlessly. 

Mrs. Mortimer pressed the girl close to 
her heart. 

“I believe it to be the truth, Hilda.” 

‘‘But if it were n% madame?” mused 
Hilda anxiously. 

‘ ‘ Then you would have more than repaid 
me by being with me, dear. I am very 
lonely, and you have crept into my heart 
You must be my little girl. So say you will 
go to America with me.” 

“Madame, I cannot say it without ask- 
ing my parents. ’ ^ 

“I know we can win their consent. It is 
as good as settled.” 

And so it proved. Mrs. Mortimer over- 
came all obstacles. She made such gener- 
ous allowance to Hilda’s family and was so 
confident of Hilda’s future that even big 
Fritz was content that the experiment be 
made. 

“But, little Hilda,” he said in parting, 
“don’t forget what I have taught you. 
Keep in practice for my sake. If your voice 
does n’t become what Mrs. Mortimer 


42 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


thinks it may, then you must be an acrobat. 
We Ve taken her money as a loan, and re- 
member, child, you are in honor bound to 
pay it back. So don’t neglect your prac- 
tice. Promise me not to forget. ’ ’ 

‘‘I promise. Father,” Hilda answered 
solemnly. 


CHAPTEE III 


AS NICE AS ANY BOY 



jjNTIL the last day the pass- 
age across the Atlantic 
proved uneventful for 
Hilda. Stormy weather 
made the trip disagreeable 
for most of the passengers, 
but in spite of cold and fog, Hilda’s spirits 
never flagged. 

That last morning she came on deck 
humming in French a gay little air. As 
usual she was the first passenger astir. 
She glanced eagerly out to sea. 

‘‘Oh how nice,” she thought. “The 
sun ’s going to break through the clouds. 
Here we Ve been out eight days instead of 
six, and it ’s stormed every bit of the way. 
I Ve loved it, but I do want one bright 
day.” 

The prospect of sunshine made her so 
happy that she could not keep still. So 
43 



44 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


away she skipped down the long deck. In 
a moment she caught her crimson skirt 
daintily in each hand, and in spite of the 
rolling of the boat she began to dance with 
extraordinary grace. 

She seemed a veritable sprite lured from 
the sea by the sunbeams. Her raven hair 
floated loosely around a face bright with 
happiness. 

‘‘This is nT exercising exactly as Father 
asked me to, but it will keep me from grow- 
ing stiff,’’ she thought. “Maybe I could 
practice a little out here.” 

She glanced back over her shoulder. Not 
even the deck steward was in sight. With- 
out further hesitation, she sprang forward 
hands flat on the deck, and over and on- 
ward she flew. She turned three hand 
springs before she stopped. By this time 
she was nearing the step that led to the 
steerage, so she sprang lightly up on tip- 
toe, her breathing undisturbed. 

The next instant she spied a poor little 
bird resting in utter dejection beside the 
landing. 

“That ’s the same one I saw yesterday,” 


As Nice as Any Boy 


45 


thought Hilda. ‘^The sailor said it was 
weak then. Poor little birdie, you do look 
tired to death. I must catch you, and give 
you some food. ’ ’ 

She crept stealthily forward, reaching 
out with great caution, for she hoped thus 
to capture the weary bird. Her hand 
grazed its feathers, but just as she thought 
she had it surely, it fluttered out of her 
grasp and hopped down the steps. 

^ ^ Birdie, I ’m your friend, ’ ’ Hilda called 
softly in French. would n^t hurt you 
for the world. Let me catch you, and I ’ll 
get you something to eat,” and she contin- 
ued the pursuit. 

The bird misinterpreted her intentions. 
Frightened into renewed streligth it 
trusted to its wings, flying upwards out of 
Hilda ’s reach. It had gone but a short way 
when again weakness overcame it. Had it 
not been for a nearby mast, it must have 
fluttered back to the deck below. As it was, 
it managed to light on some of the rigging 
on the mast. 

With upraised face, Hilda stood a mo- 
ment below the bird. 


^6 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Birdie/^ she murmured, laughing 
softly, ‘‘you think you Ve gotten the better 
of me, hut you have n’t/^ 

Unhesitatingly she began to climb the 
mast, and proved as skillful as any sailor. 

A boy who had appeared on the upper 
deck soon after Hilda, chanced to look in 
the direction of the mast. He thought his 
sight must be playing him tricks. He has- 
tened to make sure. 

“It is a girl.” Then he called aloud in 
Italian. “You ’d better come down. You 
’ll get hurt. ’ ’ 

Either Hilda did not hear or she would 
not heed. All the time the boy was run- 
ning toward her. 

When he reached the mast, Hilda had the 
bird in hand ready to descend, 

“Wait and I ’ll help you,” cried the boy 
in Italian, and with the words, was climb- 
ing the mast, fearful for her safety. 

Hilda clinging to the rigging, paused ir- 
resolutely. 

“I don’t understand you,” she an- 
swered. 

“I was afraid you ’d get hurt so I 





48 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


thought I better help/^ he called in 
French, since she had spoken in that 
tongue. 

Hilda smiled down at him reassuringly, 
don’t need any help— truly I don’t. If 
you ’ll only get out of my way, I ’ll be all 
right.” 

^^Get out of the way indeed, and she a 
mere girl,” thought the boy, but she 
seemed so confident of herself that he did 
as she asked. Hardly had he made a land- 
ing before she was standing beside him. 

got the bird all right. See,” she ex- 
claimed, holding it toward him. 

^‘You don’t mean you risked your life 
just to get that?” 

Hilda laughed. ‘‘I did n’t risk my life. 
I know how to climb. Now I must get some 
bread for the poor, starved little thing. 
You see it ’s very young, and it ’s been fol- 
lowing the boat several days, and it must 
be awfully tired and hungry.” 

‘‘You wait here, and I ’ll bring some 
bread back to you,” the boy offered, and 
was gone before Hilda could say a word. 

For awhile she devoted her attention to 


As Nice as Any Boy 


49 


the bird which was still trembling with 
fright. Soon it saw that she meant no 
harm and nestled in her hand, quite calm. 
Hilda ^8 thoughts reverted to the boy. 

‘‘My, but he was frightened- about me! 
The idea of his w’anting to help me. Me ! ^ ’ 

She laughed and laughed until she saw 
the boy returning. 

“He ’ll think me impolite,” and she tried 
to still her mirth. But as he rejoined her 
the absurdity of the situation struck her 
afresh. Again she laughed outright. 

His look of surprise quieted her. 

“I could n’t help it. Your coming up 
that mast to help me was so funny ! ’ ’ 

“How, funny?” demanded the boy, half 
inclined to be offended. 

“Because I ’ll wager that I was much 
safer than you. You see my father was an 
acrobat, and—” 

“An acrobat! That ’s funny, I ’m an 
acrobat myself. ’ ’ 

It was Hilda’s turn to be surprised. 
Without having seen many acrobats she 
had pictured them very unlike this boy. 
The difference was indefinable. She simply 


50 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


felt that his whole bearing was above the 
vocation he claimed. A more seasoned ob- 
server would have said that it was not so 
much because he was handsome, although 
his luxuriant hair and his limpid brown 
eyes would have made him conspicuous 
anywhere, but because all his features de- 
noted an artistic nature. 

‘‘You, an acrobat T’ she repeated. 

The boy hung his head, as if he felt him- 
self guilty of some crime. 

“I did nT want to be one. My father 
made me one. Here ’s the bread, he 
added, wishing to draw her attention from 
himself. 

‘ ‘ Do you suppose the bird will eat from 
our hands? Now that I Ve got it, I don’t 
know what to do with it. I wish I had a 
cage for it.” 

“I Ve a box in my room that might do 
until we reach shore. Then you can get a 
cage. ’ ’ 

“I ’ll not need it there. I ’m not going 
to keep the bird. ’ ’ 

Everything Hilda did or said was a sur- 
prise. The boy eyed her incredulously. 


As Nice as Any Boy 


51 


^^You don’t mean that you went to all 
the trouble of catching that bird just to let 
it go?” 

“Why of course. It would have died if 
I had n’t, but I ’d not keep a wild bird caged 
for anything. I ’ll be so glad if you ’ll get 
that box to put it in until it ’s strong 
enough to fly away.” 

Once more the boy hurried away. In a 
short time he was back again with the box. 
Placing it on tho hatch near them, he made 
holes in the cover while she crumbled up 
the bread. Then the bird was safely trans- 
ferred from Hilda’s hand to the box. 

“That ’s fine!” exclaimed Hilda, sitting 
down on the hatch and peeking through 
the holes in the box. “Birdie ’s eating, 
too.” 

The boy seated himself on the other side 
of the box. 

“I noticed you the first day we came 
aboard. You ’re so dark I thought per- 
haps you were an Italian.” 

“You ’re one, are n’t you? How do you 
speak French so well?” 

“Oh, I know several languages. It ’s 


52 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


convenient to speak different ones travel- 
ling all over the world as we do. Father 
had sister and me study languages from 
the time we were very little. But tell me 
more about your climbing. You were won- 
derful ! But you ’d better not let my father 
know about you or he ’d kidnap you. He ’s 
been looking for a girl like you for years. 
If you ever should want a position, you 
just come along with us!’’ 

Hilda smiled. Thank you. I don’t be- 
lieve I ’ll ever be an acrobat.” 

^^Well, if you change your mind, send 
word to me. But I have n’t told you my 
name. I ’m Silvio Eossi.” 

^^And I ’m Hilda Waif els. I was chris- 
tened Hildegarde, but no one ever calls me 
that. It ’s funny in our family about our 
names. Father and mother took turns with 
us children so that we have first a German 
name and then a French. But I must be 
going. It ’s time for my baby to wake.” 

^^Your baby?” echoed Silvio, much puz- 
zled. 

Hilda nodded. ’ve borrowed one 
every day from a lady down in the steer- 


As Nice as Any Boy 


53 


age. I ju&t love babies. After breakfast 
I going to take this one up on the deck 
to show Mrs. Mortimer. Thank you for 
your help. Good bye.’’ 

She jumped up and started to skip away, 
then turned hastily back. 

‘‘I almost forgot the bird.” 

’d have looked after it.” 

‘^That ’s kind of you. Well, good bye 
again.” 

’ll see you before we land,” answered 
Silvio. 

As he watched the crimson-clad figure 
hurrying away, he thought: 

‘‘I ’d like to know her better. She 
fine. She ’s just as nice as any boy,” and 
after a pause, ‘‘I should n’t wonder if 
she ’s nicer.” 


CHAPTEK IV 


THE GREATEST CONTRALTO 

RS. MORTIMER looked up 
from her steamer chair to 
see and saw Hilda ap- 
proaching with a baby in 
her arms. She observed 
that the two made a very 

pretty picture. 

^ ^ She ’s the greatest little mother girl I 
ever knew,” she thought. Aloud she said, 
** Why, Hilda, what are you doing with that 
baby?” 

^Ht ’s the one I told you about. I 
brought her up just to show her to you,” 
Hilda explained, seating herself on the 
edge of the vacant chair next to Mrs. Mor- 
timer. ‘‘She ’s a dear even if she is a little 
dirty, isn’t she?” 

The girl’s face was so happy that Mrs. 
Mortimer could not help smiling, although 
she hardly approved of Hilda’s sorties into 

54 



The Greatest Contralto 


55 


the steerage for babies. But she did not 
voice this thought, divining that Hilda 
greatly missed Annette. 

^‘Oh, I love babies,’’ confided' Hilda, 
patting her charge gently. wish we 
could take this one home with us, don’t 
you?” 

**We ’ll have to be satisfied with each 
other, Hilda, ’ ’ murmured the childless 
woman, her eyes filling. ‘^Mr. Mortimer 
does not care for children, and so you can- 
not hunt up babies when we get home.” 

‘^Do you think Mr. Mortimer will like 
me?” 

* ^ I pray God that he may, ’ ’ and the an- 
swer was so earnest that it startled Hilda. 

‘‘She ’s afraid he ’ll not like me,” she 
thought, and then she forgot herself in lov- 
ing care for another. To suggest that the 
baby leave her arms even for a few mo- 
ments meant a real sacrifice on her part, 
but she hoped' it might prove comforting. 
So she lifted her little charge very gently 
toward Mrs. Mortimer. 

“You can hold her,” she said. 


56 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Involuntarily Mrs. Mortimer drew away. 
“I don’t care to.” 

That her mission of love was a failure 
was a disappointment, and Hilda’s face 
showed it. Mrs. Mortimer caught the ex- 
pression and wished to atone for her eurt- 
ness. 

‘‘Hilda,” she said, “I have not told you 
how nicely I thought you helped with the 
packing. You were better than many a 
maid I have had. And I must thank you 
for waiting on me so thoughtfully during 
all this rough voyage. How did you learn 
to be so capable?” 

“I ’ve always had to work,” answered 
Hilda simply. “The things you let me do 
for you are nothing.” 

The baby moved restlessly. Hilda began 
singing a lullaby, and the little one was 
quiet. 

‘ ‘ Hilda, ’ ’ Mrs. Mortimer resumed, “I ’ve 
decided that you and I shall stay over a 
few days in New York to have your voice 
tried. I must have the opinion of some 
master. ’ ’ 

“I— I ’m not afraid to sing for you,” 


The Greatest Contralto 


57 


stammered Hilda, looking frightened, 
‘‘but I ’d be scared to death to sing for a 
really truly master. I Ve never had any 
lessons, you know.” 

‘ ‘Nonsense, child, with your voice you— ’ ’ 

At that instant the deck steward came up 
with beef tea and crackers. 

“Well, steward, shall we surely be in to- 
day?” asked Mrs. Mortimer. 

“There ^s no doubt about it, ma’am. I 
was just telling Madame Von Amim— the 
lady over there by the door— that we’d 
land before three anyway. She ’s anxious 
because the boat ’s more than two days 
overdue now, and she ’s booked to sing at a 
concert to-morrow night. ’ ’ 

“Madame Von Arnim?” repeated Mrs. 
Mortimer. “Not the great Madame Von 
Amim ! ’ ’ 

“Yes, that ’s the one, ma’am.” 

Mrs. Mortimer turned to Hilda. 

“You did n’t understand what he said, 
did you? The great singer, Madame Von 
Amim is on board.” 

“A great singer? I want to see her,^’ 
cried Hilda excitedly. 


58 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


^ ^ She ’s over there by the door. Madame 
Von Amim is the most wonderful contralto 
in all the world. 

With her eager eyes Hilda glanced to- 
ward the door. She beheld a beautiful lady 
with quantities of golden hair. 

^ ‘ She ’s the great singer ! She is surely 
Madame Von Amim/^ Hilda said to her- 
self, and never had she been so enchanted. 

Her most cherished dream was that 
some time she might meet a great singer. 
This lady of her dream was always wonder- 
fully beautiful, but never had the vision 
made her half so lovely as was the golden- 
haired lady. 

^^Yes, she is surely Madame Von Ar- 
nim,’^ she repeated. 

Not to be mistaken, she looked toward 
the far side of the doorway. Merely a nice, 
motherly lady was seated there. 

‘‘She can’t be the great singer,” decided 
Hilda, not wasting a second glance on her. 
The little singer- worshipper had eyes now 
only for the golden-haired, angelic being. 

“She looks just as she ought to,” she 
mused rapturously. Then her heart sank. 


The Greatest Contralto 


59 


’m dark, and I don’t believe I ’m pretty. 
If I ’m not, I can’t be a singer. People 
would n’t listen to me.” 

Timidly she turned to Mrs. Mortimer. 

‘‘I— I ’m not a bit pretty, am I, Mrs. 
Mortimer?” 

It was the first time that Hilda bad be- 
trayed an interest in her own looks, and 
Mrs. Mortimer did not believe in encourag- 
ing any vanity. 

^^No one would ever call you pretty,” she 
answered shortly, not thinking it necessary 
to add that sometimes when Hilda was 
most animated she considered her beauti- 
ful. 

‘‘I knew I was n’t pretty,” thought 
Hilda with a deep sigh. She felt rebellious. 
^‘Mrs. Mortimer says God gave me my 
voice. He ought to have made me pretty 
then.” 

At this moment the baby began to cry. 
Hilda sprang to her feet. 

‘^I ’ve been spoiling her,” she said. 
‘ ‘ She wants me to walk awhile with her, ’ ’ 
and away she went to the forward end of 
the deck soothing her charge gently. Her 


60 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


touch and her tone proved magical. Soon 
the crying ceased, and from a pucker, the 
rosebud mouth curved to a smile. Hilda 
retraced her steps intending to walk to the 
other end of the boat. 

Opposite the door, however, the moth- 
erly lady stopped her. 

‘‘Little girl,^’ she said, smiling in a 
friendly way, “you ’re too small to carry 
that baby. Sit down beside me.” 

“I do not speak much English,” an- 
swered Hilda. 

‘ ‘ Perhaps then you know my language, ’ ’ 
said the lady in German. 

“Oh yes, I speak German.” 

“That is good. I love the babies, too. 
I have a house full of my own at home. Sit 
down there, meine liebling.” 

“Meine liebling,” murmured Hilda, ac- 
cepting the proffered seat. ‘ ‘ Oh, Madame,” 
she added, “that sounded so good. You 
called me ‘meine liebling’ just like my 
father.” 

Again the baby began to cry. Hilda 
deftly straightened out its clothes as only 
a very experienced person can. Then she 


The Greatest Contralto 


61 


held it closely in her arms, and swaying 
back and forth, she tried to sing it to sleep. 

The motherly lady stared in surprise. 

^^What a wonderful voice,’’ she thought, 
‘ ‘ I must know more about this child. ’ ’ 

‘‘But, no,” she said to herself, “she 
seems a shy little bird, and my interest 
would startle her into silence,” so she for- 
bore to speak, listening intently. 

Hilda’s lullaby quieted the baby all too 
soon to suit the motherly lady. 

“Don’t stop, liebling,” she said, leaning 
forward with beaming face. “I like the 
way you sing.” To herself she was even 
more enthusiastic. “Himmell! but the 
dear child’s voice is a surprise.” 

At that moment Hilda looked up and 
met the gaze of the golden-haired divinity 
who seemed interested. The young girl 
blushed to the roots of her hair. 

“Well, well, why don’t you sing?” asked 
Hilda’s new acquaintance. 

Hilda’s voice did not come back to her 
until the motherly lady had repeated her 
question. 


62 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘ ^ Oh, I can ’t sing. She would hear me. ’ ’ 

^^She? Whor^ 

^^The great contralto, Madame Von Ar- 
nim,’’ whispered Hilda impressively. 

Her awestruck tone made the lady beside 
her laugh until her sides shook. 

^‘Ach, but the critics should hear you!’’ 
she said. you went to them with your 
big, round eyes and said”— here the lady 
cleverly mimicked Hilda’s expression and 
tone— ^The great contralto, Madame Von 
Arnim,^ they would surely believe Madame 
Von Amim the most wonderful singer in 
the world.” 

Don’t, please don’t,” begged Hilda. 
* ‘ She ’ll hear you. ’ ’ 

‘^Who will hear me?” 

‘‘Madame Von Arnim,” whispered 
Hilda. “She is that beautiful, beautiful 
lady in the next seat there. ’ ’ 

“Is that so? Madame Von Amim is a 
‘beautiful, beautiful lady’ is she?” re- 
peated her companion dryly. “No doubt 
she ’d like to be told that. Well, well, I be- 
lieve she ’d like to hear you too. She ’d 


The Greatest Contralto 


63 


not be a bit critical with you. I know her, 
and— 

‘^You know her?’’ repeated Hilda in 
wide-eyed envy. Then she demanded 
breathlessly, ‘‘Have you heard her sing?” 

Once more the motherly lady was 
amused. A merry twinkle shone in her 
friendly eyes. ‘ ‘ Ach yes, whenever I want 
Madame Von Amim to sing, she has to sing 
for me.” 

“If you asked her now, would she sing?” 
asked Hilda, her cheeks flaming. 

“Did n’t I tell you she ’d have to sing if 
I said so?” 

Hilda sprang to her feet somewhat for- 
getful of the baby. It stirred restlessly. 

‘ ‘ Hush, hush, ’ ’ cried Hilda, impatient of 
any interruption. Then she turned her 
sparkling, pleading eyes toward the 
motherly lady. 

“Madame, please, please, please ask her 
to sing.” 

Her excitement made her so attractive 
that the motherly lady had not the heart 
to refuse her outright. 

“Now child! Why should I ask her?” 


64 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


’d give anything to hear her. I love 
singing better than anything else in the 
world, and I Ve never head a great singer, 
pleaded Hilda, all her soul in her glowing 
eyes. can’t tell you how happy I shall 
be if you will only ask Madame Von Arnim 
to sing. You will ask her, won’t you?” 

The motherly lady realized that delay 
was making the inevitable refusal more 
difficult. 

”No, no, child, it ’s not best for her to 
sing to-day.” 

The tears sprang to Hilda’s eyes. Her 
disappointment was so apparent that the 
tender heart of the motherly lady was 
moved. 

”Sit down again, meine liebling. May- 
be I can arrange it so that you can hear 
her.” 

Hilda’s face was radiant. 

‘*You arrange it?” she gasped, reseating 
herself. ^ ‘ How can you ? ’ ’ 

‘‘Did n’t I tell you I ’m the best friend 
Madame V on Arnim has ? ” 

‘ ‘ But I ’ve never once seen you talking 
to her. ’ ’ 


The Greatest Contralto 


65 


The motherly lady enjoyed the child’s 
doubts. ‘^Ach, but we don’t have to talk. 
We know each other so well that we never 
say a word to each other.” 

‘ ‘ Then if you don’t tell her about me, how 
can I ever hear her?” 

^‘Are you to be in New York to-morrow 
night?” 

‘^Yes, we ’re to stay there a few days. 
Mrs. Mortimer said so. ’ ’ 

‘^Who ’s Mrs. Mortimer?” 

^‘She is the lady who is adopting me. 
There she is over there— the lady in black.” 

’ll ask her if you may go,” said 
Hilda’s new friend, rising with decision. 

^^Go where?” demanded Hilda also 
rising. 

‘^To Madame Von Amim’s concert to- 
morrow night.” 

^ ‘ I— I go ? Oh, if I only might. ’ ’ 

‘‘Well, wait here. I ’ll speak to Mrs. 
Mortimer.” 

Hilda felt like a prisoner awaiting sen- 
tence of life or death. With breathless in- 
terest she watched the motherly lady walk 
over to Mrs. Mortimer and say something. 


66 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


As a rule Mrs. Mortimer was reserved, 
but to Hilda’s relief and delight, she un- 
bended now, smiling graciously and mo- 
tioning the lady to sit beside her. Soon the 
two were talking in a most cordial manner. 

^ ^ Oh, if I only knew what they are say- 
ing, ’ ’ thought Hilda. 

At that moment the motherly lady was 
saying: 

Hilda tells me that you intend to adopt 
her.” 

want to do so, but I have not consulted 
my husband yet. In any event I shall give 
Hilda her chance. Please tell me what 
you think of her voice. ’ ’ 

The motherly lady’s expression betrayed 
approval, but her answer was non-comittal. 

Bring Hilda to the concert, and after- 
ward I will see you both and tell you what 
I think. I will have seats at the box office 
for you. Will you come 1 ’ ’ 

^Hndeed I will,” answered Mrs. Morti- 
mer warmly. ^Ht is a most wonderful op- 
portunity. We never can thank you 
enough. ’ ’ 


The Greatest Contralto 


‘^Now I ’m going to have the pleasure of 
telling Hilda, ’ ’ said the lady rising. ‘ ^ Her 
face is so expressive that watching her joy 
will more than repay me. ’ ^ 

Hilda ran more than half-way to meet 
her. She read the wonderful news in the 
lady’s eyes. 

‘ ^ Oh, I ’m to go. I ’m to go, ’ ’ she cried, 
and if it had not been for the hahy she 
would have hugged her benefactress, who 
seemed a veritable fairy god-mother to the 
excited mind of the girl. 

‘‘You ’re so good that I just love you. 
I don’t know how to thank you. It ’s the 
loveliest thing that ever was. I—” 

“Wait until after the concert to thank 
me I ’ve arranged with Mrs. Mortimer to 
see you then. ’ ’ 

“Hilda,” called Mrs. Mortimer, “you 
must n’t bother Madame?” 

The lady placed a warning finger on her 
lips, and hurriedly walked over to Mrs. 
Mortimer. 

“I don’t want her to know who I am un- 
til the concert,” she whispered. 


68 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


So Mrs. Mortimer simply added, ’s 
time for you to take the baby back, Hilda.’’ 

To tear herself away from her new 
friend was hard, but Hilda obeyed. 

All the rest of that morning her hap- 
piness was so intense that she felt as if she 
could fly. She gave vent to some of her 
delight in joyous song. But upon her re- 
turn she saw no more of the motherly lady, 
who had gone to her stateroom for a rest. 

After luncheon, when they were steam- 
ing into the harbor, Silvio had a few last 
words with Hilda. He came up to her just 
as she had taken the box with the bird to 
the side of the boat. 

’m going to let it go now,’’ she said. 
‘Ht ’s much stronger and it will be happy 
to reach land.” Then she opened the box, 
and away flew her captive, winging its 
flight joyfully toward shore. 

Where are you to live in America?” 
Silvio asked. 

Near Cleveland. Mrs. Mortimer has a 
country home just outside the city.” 

think we ’re booked for the Cleve- 
land Hippodrome this winter. If we are 



«( 


70 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


I ’ll send you some tickets— only I must 
have your address.” 

‘^How nice! I ’ll get Mrs. Mortimer to 
write our address down' for you, ’ ’ and Hilda 
flew hack to her patroness. 

met a boy this morning— Silvio Eossi. 
He ’s an acrobat, and he ’s to be at the 
Cleveland Hippodrome this winter. He 
wants our address so that he can send us 
some tickets. Is n’t that just finer’ 

Mrs. Mortimer raised her eyebrows 
slightly. 

‘‘My dear Hilda,” she answered, “you 
must learn better. I do not approve of 
your speaking to strange boys this way.” 

‘ ‘ But he ’s a very, very nice boy. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ That is not the question. Now that you 
are with me, you must conform to my 
ideas.” 

‘ ‘ But may n ’t I give him our address ? I 
promised it to him. ’ ’ 

“No, Hilda. You must stay here beside 
me now.” 

Hilda was too obedient to demur further, 
but she feared Silvio would think her un- 


The Greatest Contralto 


71 


friendly for not returning’. Slie tried to 
catch his eye to smile at him, hut he did 
not once look her way, and Hilda was sad. 
She liked Silvio, and she wanted him to like 
her. 


CHAPTER V 

‘ ‘ GIRLS ’ DRESSES FIRST ’ ’ 

N the afternoon of the con- 
cert, Mrs. Mortimer took 
Hilda shopping. They 
went to a beautiful store 
with the most gorgeous 
show-windows, the mere 
sight of which was a marvel to Hilda, who 
was unused to cities. 

‘‘Can I show you anything, madameT’ 
asked the floor walker as they entered. 

“I will look at girls’ dresses first.” 

“This way please,” and he conducted 
them to the side of the store. 

Here Hilda saw an opening in the wall 
inside of which was a very queer cage. 
Much to her surprise Mrs. Mortimer 
stepped into the cage. Hilda held back. 

“Come, Hilda,” said Mrs. Mortimer. 

The next moment Hilda was inside the 
cage also, not knowing what to expect. 

72 



’Girls* Dresses First’ 


73 


Suddenly they shot up and up. Hilda 
was too surprised to utter a sound. Then, 
too, it took her breath away. Still she 
rather enjoyed her novel ride. 

‘‘We get off here,” said Mrs. Mortimer 
at the third floor. 

A saleswoman brought out for their in- 
spection a number of dainty white dresses, 
and Hilda was taken to a little room to 
try them on. 

Mrs. Mortimer selected the one Hilda 
thought the most beautiful. It fitted her 
perfectly, and she felt like a fairy princess 
in it but she was too bashful to express her 
joy before the saleswoman. 

“I want it sent over surely this after- 
noon. She is to wear it this evening, ’ ’ said 
Mrs. Mortimer giving the necessary di- 
rections. 

Next they went to the millinery depart- 
ment where a French woman took unusual 
pains to please Mrs. Mortimer and Hilda 
because they spoke to her in her native 
tongue. 

She finally placed a quaintly shaped 
white straw trimmed with French flowers. 


74 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


on Hilda’s head. Then she gave it a twist 
here, and a poke there. 

‘‘Ah, Madame,” she said with a satisfied 
sigh, clasping her hands and standing a lit- 
tle to one side, “that hat mnst have been 
made for this very little girl. Is it not 
beantiful ? I think it perfect. ’ ’ 

Much to Hilda’s delight Mrs. Mortimer 
approved of the hat and ordered it sent to 
the hotel. 

The finery that was bought for Hilda 
that afternoon almost turned her head. 
Never had she expected to possess so rich 
a wardrobe. N othing was f or gotten ; every- 
thing was in harmony even to white shoes, 
and a coat which was needed because there 
was an autumn chill in the evening air. 

It was late when they left the store. As 
Mrs. Mortimer had two more errands to 
do she called a cab. 

“Drive us to Tiffany’s,” she said. 

At the jeweler’s she bought a pearl locket 
and gold chain. Hilda wondered for whom 
this purchase was meant, but she asked no 
questions, and Mrs. Mortimer vouchsafed 
no explanation. 


'Girls’ Dresses First’ 


75 


It was growing dark. But there was one 
thing more Mrs. Mortimer was bent on do- 
ing before returning to the hotel. 

‘‘Drive us to the nearest florist’s,” she 
said to the cabman. 

The city was just being lighted up. No 
fairy ippectacle could have seemed more 
wonderful to Hilda and the brilliant illu- 
mination of Broadway deepened her con- 
viction that she herself had become an en- 
chanted princess. 

“Hilda,” said Mrs. Mortimer at the 
florist’s, “I am going to let you select some 
roses to send Madame Von Arnim.” 

Hilda looked critically at the roses. At 
first she wavered between white and pink 
ones and was about deciding on the pink 
when she spied some long stemed roses 
of a rich red hue. She no longer hesitated. 
The brilliant coloring of these had a mean- 
ing which both the white and pink lacked. 
The red to her not only expressed vivid ad- 
miration, but love, and flowers to be suitable 
for Madame Von Amim must convey that 
sentiment. Hilda did not think it all out 
in words ; she only felt it. 


76 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


’s buy these fer her/^ she said, 
pointing to the red beauties. 

‘‘Very well,” agreed Mrs. Mortimer, 
and to herself added, ‘ ‘ I wonder where she 
gets her perfect taste; perhaps it ^s the 
artistio temperament. ^ ’ 

On a card she sent with the flowers, Mrs. 
Mortimer wrote something that would have 
greatly surprised and pleased Hilda. These 
were the words: “With much love from 
Hilda to Madame Von Arnim.” 

When the shoppers reached the hotel, 
they found all their packages awaiting 
them. 

“We will dress before dinner,” said 
Mrs. Mortimer. 

Afterward, when they were all ready, she 
drew Hilda into her arms and kissed her. 

“This is a wonderful night for you, my 
dear,” she said, “and one that you must al- 
ways remember.” 

“I ’ll never, never forget,” murmured 
Hilda with a catch in her voice. 

‘ ‘ I know you will not, but in the years to 
come this present will help you to keep it 


‘Girls* Dresses First’ 


77 


in mind,” and she slipped around Hilda’s 
neck the chain with the pearl locket. , 

^Ht ’s not really for me?” gasped Hilda, 
bought it for you, dear.” 

To assure herself that the locket was 
really hanging around her neck Hilda 
touched it reverently, then flew into Mrs. 
Mortimer’s arms and kissed her. 

^‘Your locket opens,” said Mrs. Mo'r- 
timer, ‘‘so that you can have two pictures 
in it.” 

‘ ‘ Oh how lovely. I want yours. ’ ’ 

“Yes, dear,” and Mrs. Mortimer pressed 
the spring to show Hilda the inside of her 
gift. 

Hilda wondered who would go on the op- 
posite side. She thought of her baby sister, 
but did not see how she was to get a like- 
ness of Annette. 

“I am going to get you a picture for the 
other side, Hilda,” said Mrs. Mortimer as 
if reading her thoughts. 

“A picture? Whose?” asked Hilda. 

‘ ‘ I would rather not tell you now, but you 
will know before long. You must not dis- 
appoint me to-night, Hilda. ’ ’ 


78 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Disappoint her? What does she 
mean?’’ wondered Hilda, but did not puzzle 
her head long over the problem. She was 
so happy that she believed only good could 
fall to her lot. 

“Fairy princesses never do anything 
wrong. So I just can’t disappoint her,” she 
decided. 


CHAPTER VI 


A WONDEKFUL NIGHT 

ARNEGIE Hall was well 
filled when Mrs. Mortimer 
and Hilda arrived. An 
nsher escorted them to 
seats close to the stage. 

< ^ I >m glad we ’re so near. 
AVe can see her better,” whispered Hilda. 

‘Ht is more important to hear well. We 
are a little too near for the best effect. But 
the house is so crowded that, by ourselves, 
I do not believe we could have gotten seats 
at all. Sometimes I enjoy music most when 
I just close my eyes and listen.” 

Hilda thought that not for the world 
would she close her eyes, and that it would 
be almost as much of a delight to look at 
Madame Von Arnim as to hear her. 

She was so excited that she could not 
keep still, and she looked eagerly all around 
the hall. 



79 


80 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Are n’t they too beautiful for any- 
thing?” she asked. 

“Who?” 

“The ladies in their light dresses. Oh, 
I ’m so glad we are here. ’ ’ 

Her gratitude made her thoughts revert 
to the motherly lady. 

“She ’s so nice I love her even if she 
is n’t pretty. Looks only matter if one is 
a singer like Madame Von Arnim. Then 
they just must be beautiful, as she is.” 

“Madame Von Amim’s selections are 
admirable,” said Mrs. Mortimer who had 
been studying the program. “They are 
suited to display a contralto voice to the 
best advantage.” 

“Does she have many songs, Mrs.— ” 

“Hush, they are about to begin.” 

Hilda looked, expecting to see Madamu 
Von Amim. Instead, a gentleman ap- 
peared on the platform and bowed slightly. 
Then he sat at the grand piano and began 
to play. 

“Where is she? Where is Madame Von 
Arnim?” whispered Hilda. 

“Shh— she ’s fourth on the program.” 


A Wonderful Night 


81 


don’t want to hear him. I want to 
hear her,” Hilda thought. 

But as the pianist warmed to his theme, 
she too awakened to the beauty of his play- 
ing. Presently she leaned slightly for- 
ward with hands clasped and eyes spark- 
ling. Thus she sat during the long selec- 
tion, all her restlessness overcome. 

‘ ‘ Was n’t that lovely ! ’ ’ she murmured, at 
the finale, and sank back into her seat with 
a sigh of content. ‘‘I never heard any- 
thing so beautiful as that in all my life.” 

‘‘You prove that you appreciate good 
music, Hilda,” said Mrs. Mortimer. 

“Ah, if it weren’t for Madame Von 
Amim, I ’d love to listen to him all night!” 

The second number also proved a delight 
to the musical girl. A queer looking lit- 
tle tenor by his flexible voice made her for- 
get his appearance. 

“He ’s not good looking and yet he 
sings,” she thought as he finished his en- 
core. “It ’s only women, maybe, who have 
to be beautiful. I know Madame Von Arnim 
will look even more beautiful at night,” she 
added with a fresh thrill of anticipation. 


82 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


“Mrs. Mortimer said she is fourth. 
What ’s next?’’ she wondered. Aloud she 
asked, “Is the man to play again?” 

“No, a lady is to give a violin solo.” 

Hilda’s impatience to behold her divinity 
was so great, that she felt no interest in a 
mere violin player. 

A man walked across the stage and 
seated himself at the piano. Then Hilda’s 
heart stopped beating for a moment. The 
beautiful golden-haired lady she had seen 
on the boat stepped out on the platform. 

“Mrs. Mortimer was mistaken. It ’s 
Madame Von Arnim surely,” Hilda 
thought. 

That the lovely being should carry a 
violin rather puzzled her. She was still 
more perplexed when the lady after bow- 
ing began to play on the instrument in her 
hand. 

“Is n’t Madame Von Amim— ” 

“Hush Hilda, you must n’t talk now.” 

The mystified girl sank meekly back, and 
stared in bewilderment at the violinist. She 
was so absorbed in wondering why Madame 
Von Amim was not singing that she did 



84 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


not heed the music. The puzzle appeared 
unsolvahle and Hilda felt her mind to he 
perfectly blank. She gazed dumbly, not 
even noticing whether the golden-haired 
lady looked as beautiful as she had ex- 
pected. 

The playing was not more than ordinarily 
good; therefore no encore was demanded. 
Even Hilda was satisfied to have it so. 

‘‘If I were a great singer like Madame 
Von Amim, I wouldn’t try to play the 
violin,” she thought. 

“Is n’t Madame Von Amim going to 
sing?” she asked. 

“Yes, immediately.” 

The color returned to Hilda’s cheeks, and 
her eyes again grew brilliant, but only for 
a moment. 

She beheld, not her blonde divinity, but 
the motherly looking lady. 

“What ’s she doing there?” thought 
Hilda. To see better she rose halfway in 
her seat. 

The lady on the platform wore a long, 
sweeping black velvet gown, low in the 
neck and short sleeved. This, together with 


A Wonderful Night 


85 


a diamond necklace glistening on her white 
throat and her many other jewels, made her 
look much more imposing than she had 
seemed when talking to Hilda on the ship. 
Still Hilda knew that she had made no 
mistake. This lady who stood bowing and 
smiling in response to the tnmnltuous greet- 
ing from the audience, was none other than 
the friend who had sent her the tickets for 
the concert. 

‘^Sit down, Hilda, commanded Mrs. 
Mortimer. 

^‘Who is she?’^ gasped Hilda as she 
obeyed. 

‘‘Why, Madame Von Amim, of course.” 

Madame Von Amim! Hilda could not 
believe it. She did not wish to believe it. 
If it were true there was no firm footing of 
belief left. A singer without beauty was a 
possibility undreamed of. Still, Mrs. Mor- 
timer must know. The motherly looking 
lady instead of the golden-haired one, by 
some trick of fate, was Madame Von Amim. 

Hilda closed her eyes— not otherwise 
could she have kept back the tears. 

Then a marvelous thing happened. A 


86 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


flood of the sweetest sound imaginable 
quelled the tumult within the girPs soul. 
It lifted her back from the brink of despair 
into a heaven of delight. She would not 
open her eyes, for now she wished not to 
see but to hear. Even yet she hardly 
deemed it possible that any but an out- 
wardly angelic being could make of earth so 
celestial a place. 

The singer’s voice denoted the joyousness 
of spring. Without the training to appre- 
ciate the technique of Madame Von Amim, 
Hilda knew intuitively that her singing 
was faultless. The voice conquered Hilda. 
She was ready now to worship it instead of 
a personality, and she opened her eyes. 

^‘She ’s much better looking than I 
thought. She ’s really handsome. I am so 
glad she ’s Madame Von Amim,’^ thought 
Hilda adoringly. ^‘Her voice is beautiful, 
beautiful. Oh, she ’s going to stop. I wish 
she would n’t.” 

The burst of applause following the last 
note of the song seemed a desecration to the 
enraptured girl. Her soul was too deeply 
stirred for outward sign. 




88 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


While the audience vociferously de- 
manded an encore, an usher hurried down 
the aisle with the flowers Hilda had chosen. 

Then Madame Von Amim returned and 
received the flowers. She glanced at the 
card. The simple little message of love 
caused the great artist to smile in pleased 
acknowledgment. Already she had dis- 
covered Hilda, and now she bowed directly 
to her. 

‘‘Hilda, she sees you. Why don’t you 
clap your hands?” whispered Mrs. Mor- 
timer displeased at her seeming stolidity. 

“Oh, I want her to sing again,” mur- 
mured Hilda. “Can’t we get her to sing 
some more?” 

‘ ‘ The way to get her to sing some more is 
to clap your hands as the others are doing. ’ ’ 

Instantly Hilda brought her hands to- 
gether almost as in prayer. So intense was 
her longing to hear the wonderful voice 
again that she stood up, and, with her hands 
now clasped, looked pleadingly into the eyes 
of Madame Von Arnim. 

In acknowledgment of the child’s naive 
appeal, the singer smiled again. 


A Wonderful Night 


89 


Hilda’s heart thrilled. 

love you,” she wanted to cry out. 
’d rather have a voice like yours than to 
be the golden-haired lady. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Sit down, Hilda. She ’s going to sing, ’ ’ 
said Mrs. Mortimer. 

Madame Von Arnim’s encore was short 
and light. It appealed to the fancy of the 
less musical, and they were vociferous in 
their demands for a third number. 

‘Hs n’t she going to sing any more to- 
night?” asked Hilda after the diva had re- 
fused another encore. 

^‘Yes, twice again.” 

So impatient was Hilda for her reappear- 
ance that even the pianist failed to hold her 
spellbound the second time. As for the 
golden-haired lady, she proved a disap- 
pointment in every way. 

‘‘She ’s not so very beautiful after all,” 
decided Hilda studying the violinist crit- 
ically. “ I ’d much rather be like my friend. 
The golden-haired lady is just pretty on 
the outside.” 

Her verdict was doubly confirmed by the 
second appearance of the famous contralto. 


90 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Madame Von Amim beautiful in- 
side,” Hilda thought proudly. “She 
makes you feel what she feels. I ’m glad, 
so glad, that the golden-haired lady is n^t 
Madame Von Arnim. It does n^t matter 
if you ’re not beautiful. You can be a singer 
just the same.” 

The last number on the program was a 
duet between the funny little tenor and the 
contralto. Hilda especially enjoyed it be- 
cause she divined that there was a story 
behind the music. She knew nothing about 
the opera from which the song was taken, 
but the action deeply appealed to her. The 
genius presiding at her birth had bestowed 
upon her not only an unusual singing voice, 
but a pronounced dramatic instinct as well. 

When Madame Von Arnim and the tenor 
had sung the grand finale, it was positive 
pain to Hilda to have people bustling into 
their wraps in a hurry to be oif. As an off- 
set to her unhappiness an usher came to 
them from behind the scenes. 

‘ ‘ Madame Von Amim asks you to come to 
her,” he said. 

The magic words once more made Hilda’s 


A Wonderful Night 


91 


heart beat wildly. Her fir&t sensation was 
one of pleasure; then she said, may be 
afraid of her now that I know how wonder- 
ful she is. She may seem different. I hope 
she dl still be kind.” 


CHAPTER VII 

HILDA BREAKS DOWN 

ADAME VON ARNIM felt 
tired and cross. While she 
w’aited for Mrs. Mortimer 
and Hilda, she caught her- 
self wishing that she might 
return to her hotel without 
seeing any one. 

‘‘How silly I was to offer to have that 
child here,’’ she exclaimed. “My imagi- 
nation is always running away with me. I 
hear a child sing to a baby, and immediately 
I say, ‘She ’s a wonder’. Then I listen to 
the story of a prejudiced woman, and I 
agree with her that the girl is a prodigy. I 
offered to give an opinion about her voice, 
but I shall be very careful to speak only the 
truth to-night. I must n’t raise false 
hopes.” 

In restless impatience she swept up and 
down the retiring room. Such places al- 
ways were distasteful to her but especially 

92 



Hilda Breaks Down 


93 


SO after the crowds were away from the 
hall. 

‘^Well, child,’’ she demanded almost 
harshly as she beheld Hilda and Mrs. Mor- 
timer in the doorway, ‘‘what do yon think 
of the ‘beautiful, beautiful Madame Von 
Arnim,’ now?” 

The words Hilda had meant to say fled 
from her. Madame Von Amim seemed an 
entire stranger. She was neither the kindly 
friend of the day before nor the wonderful 
singer of the night. She was simply a 
grand personage with an unsmiling face. 

“I— I—” stammered Hilda blushing 
furiously— and was unable to go on. 

“She’s disappointed in me,” thought 
the singer, her pride hurt. She had hoped 
that her voice would more than offset her 
looks. 

“It would if she had been what I first 
thought,” she said to herself. 

“Why don’t you thank Madame Von 
Amim for her kindness to us, Hilda?” 
asked Mrs. Mortimer breaking an awkward 
pause. 

“I— I do thank her,” murmured Hilda 


94 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


but embarrassment robbed her tone of the 
enthusiasm she felt. 

The singer chanced to glance at the red 
roses which had been placed on a table. 

‘‘Your flowers are very beautiful,’^ she 
said, unbending somewhat. “It was sweet 
of you to send them, Hilda. ’ ’ 

“Mrs. Mortimer sent them,’’ broke in 
the truthful Hilda. 

“But they were Hilda’s choice,” added 
Mrs. Mortimer. 

“I thank you both, then.” 

Madame Von Arnim was still inwardly 
irritated. She knew that she was expected 
to give an opinion on Hilda’s voice, and she 
determined to have the ordeal over with as 
soon as possible. 

“You can come on the stage with me, 
Hilda, and I ’ll try your voice,” she said. 

“Try my voice?” faltered Hilda. 

“Yes, you have heard me sing. Now I ’ll 
hear you.” 

Had she planned to terrify Hilda, she 
could have met with no better success. The 
frightened girl, her eyes round and beseech- 
ing, gazed at her like an animal entrapped. 









96 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


I sing for you? Oh no, I can’t. I 

can’t.” 

‘‘Why, yes you can.” If Madame Von 
Amim had been less tired, she would have 
been more tactful. In her heart she did not 
care whether Hilda sang or not. 

“If she does n’t follow me now, I shall 
have a good excuse for leaving,” she 
thought. ‘ ^ Come, Hilda, ’ ’ she added aloud, 
hurrying up the steps to the stage. 

“I can’t sing for her. I can’t do it,” 
cried Hilda. 

“You must sing,” answered Mrs. Mor- 
timer grasping her by the hand and leading 
her onto the stage after Madame Von 
Amim. 

Hilda looked on every side for a way of 
escape, but there was none for her; Mrs. 
Mortimer held her too firmly. 

Many of the lights had been extinguished. 
The dimness amid the rows upon rows of 
empty seats gave a ghostly effect to the 
scene, and Hilda imagined voices jeering at 
her: 

“You can’t sing, little ignorant Hilda! 
You don’t know how ! ’ ’ 


Hilda Breaks Down 


97 


But Mrs. Mortimer whispered, Don’t 
be frightened, Hilda.” 

Not be frightened ! How could she help 
it when every drop of blood seemed to have 
left her heart, and every nerve was quiver- 
ing. She understood now what Mrs. Mor- 
timer had meant when she said, ‘‘You must 
not disappoint me to-night. ’ ’ 

“Even God, unless He swallowed up my 
fear, could n’t keep me from disappointing 
Tier,” she decided hopelessly. She was too 
terrified, too miserable even for tears. 

All this time Mrs. Mortimer was pulling 
her toward the piano. 

Madame Von Amim struck a number of 
preliminary chords. She heard the child 
approaching but she did not glance around. 

“Now Hilda repeat this after me,” and 
Madame ran the scale up and down several 
times. 

Hilda’s throat was parched. 

“Hilda, do as Madame Von Amim bids 
you,” commanded Mrs. Mortimer. 

But Hilda stood in mute despair. 

“Well, are n’t you going to sing?” de- 


98 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


manded Madame Von Arnim, whirling 
around. 

One glance at Hilda’s white, woe-begone 
face melted the heart of the motherly 
woman. Instantly, instead of blaming the 
girl, she blamed herself, and wished she 
had been less abrupt. Mrs. Mortimer, how- 
ever, was not only disappointed, but hurt. 

‘‘Hilda,” she cried sharply,” I did n’t 
expect such ingratitude from you. I see 
that you do not love me, ’ ’ and she dropped 
Hilda’s hand. 

‘ ‘ I do love you, but I can’t sing, ’ ’ moaned 
Hilda, and the tears that had been frozen 
by fear, now streamed down her cheeks. 

This conquered Madame Von Arnim. 

“Never mind, liebling, it was all my 
fault.” 

Sympathy was so unexpected that it un- 
nerved Hilda more completely. Her sob- 
bing grew hysterical. 

Very gently Madame Von Arnim took 
her up in her arms, and walked over to 
the piano stool with her, unmindful that 
tears might ruin her gown. 

“There, there, liebling,” she murmured 


Hilda Breaks Down 


99 


as she sat down, ^^stop crying. You need 
n’t sing. We ’ve frightened the song all 
away. There have been times in my life 
when I could n’t sing. I understand.” 

Hilda was comforted. With the 
motherly arms pressed so lovingly around 
her, fear fled. The great singer was no 
longer a personage to be dreaded. Her 
friend had come back. Only a dear, dear 
friend could comfort as she comforted, and 
Hilda loved her for it with all her impulsive 
heart. She pressed her wet face close to 
Madame Yon Arnim’s. 

‘H— I wanted to tell you all the time that 
I love you better than the golden-haired 
lady, ’ ’ she whispered. ‘ ‘ After I heard you 
sing, I did n’t care for her at all.” 

Madame Von Amim pressed Hilda 
closer. 

Mrs. Mortimer began to feel that per- 
haps she had been harsh. 

‘‘Hilda,” she cried “I did n’t mean what 
I said. I know you love me.” 

“Indeed I do love you,” sobbed Hilda. 
‘ ‘ How could I help it when you have been 
so good to me! Just see the beautiful 


100 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


locket Mrs. Mortimer gave me/^ she added 
to Madame Von Amim. 

^‘That reminds me/’ broke in Mrs. Mor- 
timer, ‘‘I meant to ask Madame Von Amim 
for her picture to put in the locket.” 

Hilda looked up in glad surprise. 

* ‘ Oh, Madiame, will you give me your pic- 
ture f” 

‘ ‘ I ’m not sure I have one small enough to 
fit, but I ’ll tell you what we ’ll do. Come 
to my rooms with me, and we ’ll look over 
what I have. 



CHAPTER Vm 


A TRULY PRIN’CESS 



the drive to the 
hotel, the singer held 
Hilda’s hand in a motherly 
clasp, bestowing upon her 
an occasional assuring 
squeeze or pat. By the time 
Madame Von Arnim’s rooms were reached, 
Hilda was herself. 

‘‘What a beautiful room,” she exclaimed 
as the maid admitted them. “It ’s much 
prettier than ours, is n’t it Mrs. Morti- 
mer?” 

Her simplicity pleased Madame Von 
Arnim. 

‘ ‘ I have learned to make even hotel rooms 
home-like,” she explained, as the maid took 
their wraps and the red roses. “Hilda 
look at those photographs on the piano. 
They ’re my children.” 

101 



102 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Hilda ran to examine the pictures. The 
first to catch her eye was one of a baby. 

^‘She ’s the dearest little thing I ever 
saw,’^ she cried, and added with uncon- 
scious flattery, ‘^She looks just like you, 
Madame Von Arnim. ’ ’ 

Then she saw the photograph of a girl of 
twelve or thirteen years old and while she 
was gazing at it, Madame Von Amim 
turned to Mrs. Mortimer. 

‘‘You must not mind if I neglect you,’’ 
she whispered. “I intend to make Hilda 
sing for me.” 

“I am afraid you will fail,” Mrs. Mor- 
timer replied with a sigh. She regretted 
more than ever the wonderful opportunity 
Hilda was missing. 

“I have no fears. If you will go over 
there by the table, and pretend to be in- 
terested in: the magazines, I ’ll wager that 
in less than five minutes she ’ll be singing 
for me.” 

“If that happelns, I will say you are 
versed in magic.” 

Madame Von Amim walked over be- 
side Hilda. 



104 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘This is my Frieda, Hilda,’’ she said, 
taking down the picture of the girl at which 
Hilda had been looking. “You and she are 
about of an age, although Frieda looks 
much older. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ She ’s very sweet, but she ’s not a bit 
like you.” 

“No, Frieda takes after her father’s fam- 
ily,” exclaimed Madame Von Arnim 
proudly. This daughter evidently was a 
great favorite. “Frieda has n’t quite out- 
grown dolls, as I bought one for her to- 
day.” 

“Marie,” she called to the maid, “bring 
that new doll to me. ’ ’ 

“Now what do you think of her lady- 
ship?” she continued a moment later 
placing in Hilda’s arms a large doll with 
golden hair and brown eyes. 

“Oh, it ’s beautiful.” 

“I ’ll have Frieda name her dolly after 
you, Hilda. It ’s so big, it seems almost 
like a baby does n’t it?” 

Hilda nodded her head. 

“Bring dolly over here, and sit in this 
rocker beside me. That ’s right. Now I ’m 


A Truly Princess 


105 


going to tell you about my babykin. Every 
time I ’m away from her, I learn a new 
song to sing to her. You know the kind 
of song I mean ; one that when baby lies in 
your arms, like dolly there, makes baby 
cuddle closer and closer until baby drowses 
off into islumberland. ’ ’ 

Hilda, hugging the doll contentedly to 
her heart rocked back and forth, unaf- 
fectedly interested in what was being said. 

‘‘I have not learned a song for baby this 
time. Poor little dear, she ’ll be so sad if 
I return without one. I wish there were 
some one to teach me a song.” 

Hilda did not nibble at the bait. 

‘‘Mrs. Mortimer tells me you have a 
baby sister, Hilda. You must know some 
pretty song that you sing to her. If you ’ll 
teach me one of them I ’ll sing my favorite 
to you to learn from me. Then we ’ll both 
know new lullabies for our babies. Would 
you like that?” 

“But I don’t know anything about sing- 
ing like you,” objected Hilda. 

“Oh, lullabies don’t count. Just make be- 


106 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


lieve you have your sister in your arms, and 
I ’ll just think about my baby. ’ ’ 

Hilda grew interested in the make-be- 
lieve. She rocked back and forth wonder- 
ing what kind of lullaby Madame Von 
Arnim’s baby would like. 

know a little German lullaby. Shall 
I sing it?” she asked finally. 

‘ ‘ That ’s the very one I want. German 
lullabies are the nicest of all.” 

Hilda readjusted the doll in her arms, 
and began to croon her song imagining that 
the doll was Annette, and that she must 
sing her very best because the baby was so 
restless. Not even at first did her tones 
quaver, so completely did the spirit of her 
make-believe possess her. Presently the 
dulcet undertone swelled to rich, full notes 
that showed the unusual power of the voice. 
Its mellow beauty made Madame Von 
Arnim marvel. But it was the naturalness 
of the singer that impressed her most, for 
it transported her back to a German fire- 
side. In Hilda she saw a motherly haus- 
frau whose whole life was bound up in her 
family. 


A Truly Princess 


107 


^‘The baby^s eyes begin to blink,’’ she 
said presently, for Hilda’s manner and 
voice indicated this. 

Back to it ’s crooning ebbed the wondrons 
voice, lost at last in a faint echo. 

Madame Von Amim catching Mrs. Mor- 
timer’s eyes and fearing that she was about 
to break the spell, placed a warning finger 
on her lips. Without a word of comment 
she turned to Hilda. 

^‘Let me take the baby, Hilda, and I ’ll 
try your lullaby,” she said, holding out her 
arms. 

Hilda arose quietly and entrusted the doll 
to Madame Von Amim. 

‘ ‘ She ’s waking up, ’ ’ she whispered, ^ ‘ but 
your singing will put her to sleep again I 
know. ’ ’ 

The great artist began humming the 
lullaby. For a moment, she sang it ac- 
curately, then purposely she made a mis- 
take. 

‘'That ’s not right. It goes this way,” 
interrupted Hilda giving the correct 
melody. 

Madame Von Arnim nodded her head. 


108 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


well pleased. Yes, yes, now I see. I think 
I have it— this way T ^ and the rest was flaw- 
lessly rendered. 

‘ ‘ It ^s just like being home to hear you, 
only nicer,’’ commented Hilda. 

Madame Von Amim though that a pretty 
compliment. 

‘^You ’re going to sing for me now, are 
n’t you?” pleaded Hilda. ^^The song you 
teach me will be the nicest one I ever 
learned. ’ ’ 

Her interest pleased Madame Von 
Amim, but she decided to test Hilda in a 
difficult song, wishing to be sure that the 
girl was the genius Mrs. Mortimer believed 
her to be. 

‘ ‘ Hilda, ’ ’ she cautioned, ‘ ‘ you must listen 
very carefully and try to do better than I 
by not making a single mistake. ’ ’ 

can never sing as you do, but I ’ll do 
my best, ’ ’ promised Hilda. 

“The selection I have made is a little 
high for my voice, but it will suit yours 
all the better.” Purposely she gave the 
song in rather slow time so that Hilda 
might the better follow her. 


A Truly Princess 


109 


The enraptured girl sat motionless. The 
voice singing now just for her benefit, 
pleased her more and more, and she was 
not the least frightened. No one need be 
frightened before a dear friend who under- 
stood little girls so well and who loved 
babies. 

Toward the end of the song, Madame 
Von Amim no longer held herself in check. 
She forgot to sing slowly, and she even em- 
bellished the ballad with some of her won- 
derful trills. 

‘‘Do you think you can sing my song, 
Hilda?*’ she asked after her triumphant 
close. 

“I can sing some of it, only I *d have to 
practise to make those trills as you do.” 

“I had to practise much myself, so just 
do the best you can.” 

Hilda’s rich, young voice rang out clear 
and true. Once or twice she imitated Mad- 
ame Vbn Amim’s mannerisms. As to the 
trills, she reproduced them marvelously 
well. 

Madame Von Amim impulsively bent 


110 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


over Hilda, and drawing the girl np to her, 
she kissed her. 

‘ ^ God has been very kind to you, Hilda, ’ ’ 
she said, keeping her arm around her. 
^ ^ He has given you a beautiful voice. Still 
you have your part to do. We singers must 
work, work, work. Every day of your 
life, Hilda, you must remember that five 
talents have been intrusted to your keep- 
ing, but you are to make of them ten so that 
more shall be given you. ’ ’ 

Madame Von Arnim turned to Mrs. Mor- 
timer who had also risen, and was as deeply 
impressed as Hilda by the solemnity of 
the singer’s words. 

‘‘You have made no mistake in giving 
Hilda her chance, Mrs. Mortimer. It is a 
great privilege to help develop a genius 
like hers. Her principal task during the 
next few years should be to acquire as much 
knowledge as possible, but do not force 
her voice. Let her have lessons in in- 
strumental music.” 

“Hilda,” she added, “learn, learn, learn 
all the time. Then learn more. I expect 


A Truly Princess 


111 


great things of yon, ’ ^ and again she kissed 
her. 

“In two or three years if yon want more 
advice, bring her to me,’’ she continned to 
Mrs. Mortimer. Then she drew a ring from 
her little finger. 

“Hilda, Mrs. Mortimer gave yon one 
remembrance of this night. I give yon 
now another. This ring belonged to my 
little girl who died. It is sacred to me, bnt 
not too sacred for yon becanse of the voice 
God has given yon. It will be a pledge be- 
tween yon and me in all the years to come 
that I will do what I can to help yon. ” . 

As she placed the ring on Hilda’s mid- 
dle finger the child felt more than ever like 
an enchanted princess. Magical things 
were happening so fast, it seemed as if a 
whole kingdom fnll of fairies mnst be work- 
ing in her behalf. She lifted her arms to 
Madame Von Arnim. 

• “I love yon. I can’t thank yon,” she 
mnrmnred with a hng and then a kiss. 

“We shonld be going,” snggested Mrs. 
Mortimer. “We mnst not impose npon 
Madame Von Amim. She—” 


112 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘But I have n’t her picture yet far my 
locket,” objected Hilda. 

“So you have n’t forgotten that!” cried 
Madame Von Amim, her eyes twinkling 
with merriment. 

“No, and I ’ll care so very, very much for 
it. You will give it to me, won’t you?” 

She was so earnest that Madame Von 
Amim fitted one of her small photographs 
into the locket. 

“This will help you not to forget me, 
Hilda.” 

“I could n’t forget you. I love you too 
much, and I shall always remember what 
you have said to me.” 

“When I ’m an old, old lady, I shall go 
and hear a wonderful singer. And I shall 
say to myself, ‘ When she was a little girl, 
I told her she had a God-given voice.’ ” 

“Do you mean me, Madame Von 
Amim?” cried Hilda her eyes dancing. 

“Yes, liebling, I do mean you. You will 
be famous some day if you make the most 
of your voice.” 

With this prophecy ringing in her ears, 
Hilda bade her hostess farewell. That 


A Truly Princess 


113 


Madame Von Arnim believed anything so 
amazing was the culminating glory of the 
whole day. Instead of the fairies changing 
her into an enchanted princess, she found 
that through her voice she was one by birth. 
Hers was the true blood royal. The queen 
of song had prodaimedi it so. 


CHAPTER IX 


A GLIMPSE OF SILTIO 

R. MORTIMER’S dislike of 
children sealed Hilda’s 
fate. 

‘^That little foreign girl 
cannot stay in my house,” 
he declared. ‘‘What were 
you thinking of to bring her home with 
you?” he demanded of his wife. 

“She ’s a great comfort to me. Besides 
Hilda is a genius. Madame Von Arnim— ’ ’ 
“A genius indeed,” sneered Mr. Mor- 
timer. ‘ ‘ Deliver me from living in the same 
house with any genius. She ’s got to go. 
I ’m worried to death as it is. I tell you, 
I ’ll not stand it. Either she goes or I do. 
I ’ll not live in the same house with her.” 

Mrs. Mortimer saw the uselessness of try- 
ing to change his mind. She realized that 
some business trouble was making him ir- 
ritable and unreasonable. Just at this 
114 




116 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


point Mr. Mortimer had to make a flying 
trip West. When he returned Hilda had 
disappeared, and he was so preoccupied 
that he forgot to ask his wife about her. 

Mrs. Mortimer, however, was providing 
for Hilda. Her love and interest in her 
protege had not lessened. She felt no self- 
sacrifice too great to give Hilda an educa- 
tion, and having money of her own, she had 
placed Hilda in a boarding-school in Cleve- 
land. 

With her slight knowledge of English, 
Hilda was very homesick at first. Soon she 
made two friends who were willing to help 
her all they could. These were the teachers 
of French and German. The latter knew 
French also and always spoke it with the 
French teacher, and this made the pair 
very companionable. 

Hilda made another good friend, a town 
girl who came in for lessons and who was 
well advanced in French. 

One memorable day, just as Hilda was 
settling into the routine of boarding-school 
life, she was invited to go with this new 


A Glimpse of Silvio 


iir 


friend and her mother to a matinee at the 
Hippodrome. 

The performance of itself was most in- 
teresting to Hilda, as the only other enter- 
tainment she had ever attended was Mad- 
ame Von Arnim’s concert. But near the 
end, when a troupe of trapeze performers 
appeared, her excitement knew no bounds. 

‘ ‘ I— I believe there ’s the boy who wanted 
to help me on the boat,’^ she said to herself. 

Yes, it really is Silvio Rossi.’’ 

She was inclined to tell her friend of her 
discovery but bethought herself how Mrs. 
Mortimer has disapproved of Silvio. 

‘‘Ruth might feel as Mrs. Mortimer did, 
I ’d better not tell her,” she decided. 

Hilda’s heart thumped all during that 
act. Silvio’s fearlessness and agility won 
him applause on every side; but no one 
clapped harded than Hilda for from her 
own training she knew all the fine points in 
his work. 

“He ’s very wonderful,” she thougnt 
proudly. “I ’d give anything to speak to 
him. I wish I might, but perhaps he has 


118 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


forgotten all about me, and Mrs. Mortimer 
would n’t like it if I tried to see him.” 

And so, when Silvio made his final bow, 
Hilda feared that she might never see him 
again. 

‘ ^ If he saw me, would he remember meV ’ 
she wondered. 

The rest of the performance interested 
her little. When it was all over and she was 
out on the avenue with her friends she heard 
newsboys crying excitedly. 

‘‘Euth, why are they making so much 
noise?” she asked her friend. Newsboy’s 
English still baffled her. 

“Oh, they ’re calling out an extra— some- 
thing a-bout the suicide defaulter,” Ruth 
answered indifferently. “Mother and I 
have some errands. Will you come with 
us, Hilda?” 

“I must n’t. I have some bothersome 
English to study. Thank your mother for 
me please, Ruth,” and she said good bye 
to the lady. 

When Hilda boarded the car she was fol- 
lowed by the cry of the newsboys who were 


A Glimpse of Silvio 


119 


trying to sell their papers to homeward 
bound passengers. 

Hilda smiled. ‘ Ht ’s strange what funny 
things I make out of English,’^ she thought. 
^ ^ Sometimes it sounds as if they were yell- 
ing the name of Mortimer. ’ ’ 

At th^e school Hilda was able to enter 
without ringing. She would have gone di- 
rectly to her room but as she passed a cur- 
tained doorway at her right, she heard 
French being spoken. She recognized the 
voices of her two teachers and turned to- 
ward the door, intending to tell them how 
much she had enjoyed her afternoon. 

‘‘What will Mrs. Mortimer do about 
poor Hilda? It ’s awful, awful,” exclaimed 
the German teacher just as Hilda had her 
hand outstretched to pull aside the curtain. 

The startled girl stopped abruptly, af- 
fected by the horror in her teacher’s tone. 
For a few moments she was stunned ; then 
a pain shot through her heart and she felt 
too weak and too curious to move away. 

“And I Ve got to break it to Hilda,” 
said the French teacher. “I was in hopes 


ISO 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


she might he sent right back to Mrs. Mor- 
timer, but—’’ 

‘^From what the papers say, Mrs. Mor- 
timer is left penniless,” interrupted the 
German teacher. ‘ ‘ She may not want Hilda 
at all now.” 

‘‘Mrs. Mortimer not want me,” gasped 
Hilda. The mystery was growing unbear- 
able. 

“I ’m very sorry for Hilda— you know 
how fond I am of her— but no one could 
blame Mrs. Mortimer if she decides that 
she cannot be burdened with the child^” 
continued! the German woman. “Do you 
suppose she will send Hilda back to her 
own people?” 

“I ’m sure I don’t know what is to be- 
come of the poor little thing. Oh, a suicide 
is awful.” 

“Yes, but it ’s almost inevitable in a case 
like this. If people will speculate with 
other people’s money they must expect the 
tide to turn against them some day. It ’s 
no wonder John Mortimer shot himself. 

“I must go to Mrs. Mortimer,” was 
Hilda’s thought. 


A Glimpse of Silvio 


121 


She did not feel equal to the ordeal of 
facing the teachers and telling them of her 
intention. So very stealthily and hurriedly 
she slipped back into the street. 

The frosty air calmed her, but it was 
hard to think clearly. The horror of what 
the teachers had revealed pursued her. She 
glanced back fearfully. No one was follow- 
ing. She walked rapidly intending to take 
the suburban car when it came along. 

‘‘The teachers will be frightened,” she 
quavered, “but I can’t help it.” She felt 
that she could not bear ever to hear the 
sound of their voices aagin. Suddenly she 
grasped the full significance of all they had 
said and she halted abruptly. 

‘ ‘ I can’t go to Mrs. Mortimer. They said 
she would n’t want me, and that she is poor, 
and that I would be a burden to her. What 
shall I do? What shall I do? ” 

Had her life been sheltered like the lives 
of some children she would probably have 
returned to the school to await the course 
of events. But Hilda was only too well ac- 
quainted with poverty. She had already 
grappled with want. In her school of ex- 


122 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


perience, waiting and words of sympathy 
were unknown qualities. No matter how 
young people were, unless they were mere 
babies, they were expected to work. So in 
this dark hour all her instinct was for ac- 
tion. 

ought to do something. I must do 
something to earn money for her, but what 
can I do? What can I do?” she repeated 
over and over but no answer came. ‘ ‘ She 
lent us money and now I Ve just got to pay 
her back. ’ ’ 

On and on she walked and presently 
reached the heart of the city, then turned a 
comer and wandered aimlessly toward the 
lake. 

^ ^ I must do something to help Mrs. Mor- 
timer. Dear God, please show me what to 
do,” she prayed, feeling, of herself most 
helpless. 

Little Hilda believed that love, not error, 
was her guiding star. Could she have seen 
that by running away she was doing very 
wrong; that such action could only make 
Mrs. Mortimer the more unhappy, she 
would have gone back and listened to what 


A Glimpse of Silvio 


133 


the French teacher had to say however ter- 
rible that now seemed. Unfortunately she 
had no way of knowing. 

Down by the water it was cold and windy 
but Hilda was so tired that she sat down 
on one of the deserted benches in the little 
park. It was the dinner hour but she was 
not hungry. 

‘ * They said I might be sent home, ’ ’ she 
thought with new terror, for the first time 
pitying herself. ^‘Then 1 never never can 
be a singer like Madame Von Amim. I 
do want that to come true. Oh God, please 
make it come true ! ’ ’ 

The ring that the great singer had ^ven 
her was on her finger. Hilda nervously 
twisted it around and around. The remem- 
brance of that wonderful night and the 
thought that now all her hopes seemed 
blasted unnerved her and the tears 
streamed down her cheeks. 

must nT cry. I must do something, 
she repeated drying her eyes. 

Suddenly she sprang to her feet. 

‘‘I can sing on the street as I used to at 


124 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


home. Sometimes I made quite a little 
that way. ’ ’ 

It did not strike Hilda that such an action 
would seem incongruous in a well-dressed 
girl. She only felt that she must earn 
money for Mrs. Mortimer. 

She was very cold hut with new hope 
surging in her heart, she forgot her dis- 
comfort. She started rapidly uptown fully 
determined to sing in America as she had 
done in the little German town, her only 
fear that she could not control her voice. 

‘ ‘ I must try, ’ ^ she said. ‘ ‘ I must try. ’ ^ , 


CHAPTER X 

BEHIND THE SCENES 

little before eight that even- 
ing, Silvio Rossi came 
swinging up the avenue to- 
ward® the Hippodrome. 
He was on his way to pre- 
pare for the evening’s per- 
formance, having dined away from his 
father and sister. 

When he was almost opposite the alley 
that leads to the stage, he saw a little girl 
leaning against a building looking very cold 
and miserable. He wished to speak to her, 
but he hardly dared. She was too well- 
dressed for a beggar. 

Suddenly she sprang towards him. 

‘^Oh, Silvio,” she cried with a pitiful 
catch in her voice, ‘ ‘ do you remember me ? ” 

He was so startled that for an instant he 
could not remember where he had seen 
her, familiar though her face was. 

125 



126 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


^ ‘ I ’m sorry — ^ ^ he began. 

‘^You ’re not angry with me because I 
did n’t come back that day? Truly it was 
n’t my fault.” 

‘‘No, I ’m not angry,” he replied trying 
hard to place her. 

‘ ‘ You don ’t remember me. Oh, you must 
remember me. I ’m the girl who climbed 
the mast on the ship, and you wanted to 
help me. ’ ’ 

The light of recognition glowed in his 
face. ‘ ‘ Of course I remember you, Hilda, ’ ’ 
he cried, “but what are you doing here? 
You look frozen.” 

“I— I am cold, I Ve been waiting nearly 
two hours. ’ ’ 

“Waiting?” repeated Silvio. 

“Yes. I— I had some awful news. I 
must make money. I thought of something 
that might bring me a little and I came up 
here by the Hippodrome to try. Then I re- 
membered seeing you this afternoon— I was 
at the matinee— and it came back to me 
what you said on the boat. I ’ve been walk- 
ing up and down ever since hoping I ’d see 
you.” 


Behind the Scenes 


127 


What I said on the boat?’’ asked Silvio, 
not comprehending. ‘ ‘ What did I say ? ’ ’ 

^‘Yon said—” Hilda was so cold and so 
disappointed that she almost broke down. 
For a moment she could not go on. 

‘‘Please tell me,” Silvio said to en- 
courage her. 

Hilda hastily drew her hand across her 
eyes. ‘ ‘ I— I ’m not going to cry, ’ ’ she mur- 
mured pitifully. “You— you said if I ever 
wanted a position, that I could come along 
with you because your father had been 
looking for a little girl like me. So I 
thought that would be better than the other 
thing I was going to do, and I ’ve been ask- 
ing God ever since to send you to me. You 
will help me, won’t you?” 

Silvio hardly knew what to say or how to 
act. He again noticed that Hilda was well- 
dressed, but her manner and words left 
no doubt of her distress. 

Silvio hesitated. To himself he said, 
“They don’t like strangers back of the 
scenes, but the manager ’s so friendly he ’ll 
not make a fuss if I take her behind with 
me.” To Hilda he added, “If you will 


128 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


come with me my father and sister may 
know what to do. But you ’ll have to wait 
until our act is over.” 

Hilda gladly accompanied him back of the 
scenes. 

‘‘She ’s my friend,” Silvio said to the 
stage manager. “Can’t she stay here until 
I go?” and he pointed to a chair where 
Hilda would be out of the way. 

The manager could not resist Silvio’s 
winning smile. 

“Very well, but tell her to keep quiet.” 

“Hilda, you must n’t move from this 
chair,” cautioned Silvio. “I must leave 
you for a while now.” 

After he was gone, Hilda, had an impulse 
to run away. The place was so vast and 
strange that it frightened her. Soon the 
stage i>eople came flocking into the wings, 
for the performance was about to begin. 
Hilda could not picture herself as ever be- 
ing of their number. 

“I— I ’d much rather be a singer,” she 
thought miserably. “If poor Mrs. Mor- 
timer did n’t really need money, I never 








130 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


could be an acrobat. It does n’t seem 
natural like singing. ’ ’ 

Out in the audience people were laughing 
uproarously at the antics of a clown ; behind 
the scenes a young girl was crying, but so 
quietly that she escaped notice. 

’d be a burden to Mrs. Mortimer,” 
was the thought that gave Hilda keenest 
pain. must n’t be that. I must help 
her. ’ ’ 

She found it hard to be brave. With the 
consciousness of heavy responsibilities rest- 
ing upon her young shoulders and the sense 
of homelessness, she could not dry her 
tears. 

When Silvio returned, ready to go on 
the stage, he saw that his little friend was 
crying. There were still a few minutes be- 
fore their act, so he hurried to the dressing- 
room of Leonora, his half sister, who, both 
from her age and her devotion, seemed al- 
most a mother to him. 

Leonora,” he began hurriedly, want 
you to come down stairs to comfort a little 
girl. She ’s the one I met on the boat.” 

^‘The one you met—” 


Behind the Scenes 


131 


^^Yes, you know— the girl who climbed 
the mast. I told you about her. Well, she ’s 
in trouble now, and wants to come with us. 
W e must persuade father to take her. He ’s 
just got to.’’ 

‘ ‘ Tell me more about her, Silvio. ’ ’ 

^‘We can’t stop now. She ’s crying, and 
it makes my heart ache to have her feel so 
badly. You can comfort her I know.” 

On the way down he added, You ’ll have 
to speak French to her. You don ’t know 
German and she speaks only a little Eng- 
lish.” 

Leonora was prepared to be kind to Hilda 
for Silvio ’s sake, but when she saw the wee 
stranger, her dejected attitude so touched 
Leonora’s heart that, with the impulsive- 
ness of her Italian nature, she hurried over 
and knelt down beside her. 

‘‘Silvio asked me to come to you— I ’m 
his sister,” began Leonora sympathetic- 
ally, “and you must trust me— I ’ll be your 
friend. So tell me, cara mia, why are you 
unhappy? Have n’t you a home?” 

“No,” faltered Hilda. 


132 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


^^Why are n’t your friends looking after 
you then?” 

^‘The lady who was to adopt me is too 
poor now to want me. If I can’t go with 
Silvio as he said, I don’t know what I shall 
do. Please— please let me go with you. ’ ’ 

‘‘You shall go with us, Hilda,” spoke up 
Silvio. Already he looked upon himself as 
her protector. 

At this moment the act of the Eossi 
troupe was called. 

‘ ‘ Silvio, you must not promise too much, ’ ’ 
cautioned Leonora. In answer to Hilda’s 
disappointed look, she added. “We ’ll talk 
to my father about you.” 

After their act when Salvatore Eossi 
heard about Hilda, he shook his head deci- 
sively. 

“We can’t take a strange girl away with 
us, ’ ’ he declared. “ It ’s out of the question 
entirely.” 

“But, Father, talk to her,” implored 
Silvio. “She ’s just the girl you ’ve been 
looking for these many, many years.” 

Thus urged Eossi went with his son to 


Behind the Scenes 


133 


Hilda. His sharp eyes immediately saw 
that she was not dressed like a poor girl. 

‘‘What were yon doing out in the street 
alone?’’ he asked studying her face keenly. 
“You are too young for that, my child.” 

“ I ’m thirteen, ’ ’ she answered trying not 
to be afraid, but she could not bear the 
piercing brightness of his eyes. Her glance 
faltered so that she looked guilty. 

“She ’s running away. She ’s stage 
struck,” Eossi decided. Aloud he said 
gruffly. ‘ ‘ Silvio, we must be dressing. Our 
train leaves in an hour now,” and with that 
he abruptly walked away. 

‘ ‘ He — he ’s not going to take me ! ’ ’ Hilda 
wailed. 

“Yes he is,” Silvio blurted. “You wait 
while I talk to him.” 

Silvio rushed after his father, and over- 
took him before he had reached their dress- 
ing room. 

“Father, we ’ve got to take Hilda with 
us. The lady who was going to adopt her 
lost her money and— ’ ’ 

“That ’s a made up story,” muttered 
Rossi. 


134 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘No, it is n’t Father. Anyway, she was 
trained to be an acrobat.” 

“I don’t believe that either.” 

“I know it ’s trne. I saw her go up a 
mast, and only a girl with training could 
do that. Besides her father was an acrobat 
before— ’ ’ 

“Her father?” questioned Bossi with 
new interest. “What was his name?” 

“I don’t know, hut I ’m sure Hilda will 
tell you all about him if you ask her. Please 
do talk to her some more. I ’ll bring her 
up to our dressing room,” and before Bossi 
could object, Silvio was flying down , the 
curving stairs. 

“Hilda,” he said excitedly, taking her by 
the hand, “come on, but be careful what 
you say to father. Above all things tell 
him only the truth. ’ ’ 

“I would n’t tell a lie,” answered Hilda 
proudly. 

“I did n’t believe you would, only I 
thought it best to warn you, for you ’ll be 
cross-questioned pretty closely.” 

While they were talking he was leading 
her upstairs. Hilda tried to calm herself. 


Behind the Scenes 


135 


but she could not help feeling nervous and 
weak. Besides the shock of Mr. Mortimer’s 
suicide, she was now suffering from the 
effects of being out in the cold so long with- 
out anything to eat. The strangeness of 
her surroundings further affected her. 

As the boy and girl entered the dressing 
room, Eossi looked up and frowned. The 
next instant he was ashamed of his petu- 
lance. Hilda was very pale and there were 
deep circles under her great, dark eyes. 

Without a word, Eossi walked over and 
picked her up. No chair being at hand, he 
placed her on a trunk. 

‘‘Now,” he said almost kindly, “ you can 
tell me your father’s name.” 

“His real name is Fritz Waif els, but—” 

“I never heard of him,” muttered Eossi. 

“Maybe you ’d know his stage name. It 
was Versen, and—” 

“Not Hans Versen?” 

“Yes sir. That ’s my father. ’ ’ 

Eossi stooped over and kissed her. 

“Why, my dear child,” he said, “your 
father and I were in a troupe together when 


136 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


we were boys. I have n^t heard of him for 
years. Tell me all about him. ’ ^ 

So Hilda told of the accident that had 
darkened her father’s life. 

‘‘Hans a cripple! What a pity,” Eossi 
exclaimed, then added to himself, “It ’s a 
strange thing for Hans Versen’s daughter 
to come to me in America. How do you 
happen to be in this country, Hilda?” he 
asked. 

“A rich lady came to Germany, and 
brought me home with her. She— ’ ’ 

“A rich lady?” interrupted Eossi disap- 
pointedly. 

Hilda’s chin quivered. “She was rich, 
but she ’s very poor now and so she does 
n’t want me.” 

“Well, Hilda,” said Eossi patting her 
on the shoulder, “don’t you mind. It ’s 
fortunate you came to me. You shall go 
with us to New York. You and Silvio ought 
to make a great team. ’ ’ 

Not a word had escaped Silvio. Now he 
rushed excitedly forward. 

“That ’s fine, is n’t it, Hilda?” 


Behind the Scenes 


137 


She nodded her head, but looked some- 
what doubtful. 

^^What the trouble, Hilda?’’ asked 
Eossi. 

‘‘I was wondering whether I can make 
money right away.” 

Eossi was surprised and displeased. 
* ‘ She ’s too young to be so avaricious, ’ ’ he 
thought. 

^ ‘ That depends upon how much you know, 
Hilda. As soon as you are ready to act with 
us, I ’ll begin paying you. Do you have to 
send word to anyone before starting? ” 

‘‘Maybe I ’d better write a letter,” she 
answered. 

This is what she wrote and sent before 
her departure : 

“My dear, dear Mrs. Mortimer: 

“I left school because I heard the 
teachers— they did n’t know I heard— talk- 
ing about Mr. Mortimer’s death. I ex- 
pected to go right back to you until I re- 
membered that the teachers said you were 
so terribly poor that you would n’t want 
me. So I decided I must work, and help 


138 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


you, but I did n’t know what to do. So I 
just prayed God to show me and’ He did. 

’m with nice kind people— the boy— 
they have a son, ’ ’ she added enigmatically, 
^ ^ is very, very nice, and he ’s my friend al- 
ready. Leonora the sister is quite old, but 
she is good to me. I ’m to make money be- 
fore very long, and then can help you. 

‘‘Please write Madame Von Amim that 
it is n’t my fault my not being a singer. If 
I ’d only had the chance you planned for me, 
I might have made you both glad you 
helped me.’’ Here tears splashed down and 
blotted the words, but Hilda had to let the 
letter go that way as the moments, were 
few in which to write. 

“They say I must stop now, but I want 
you to know that I still love you with all my 
heart. 

“Your Very Own, 

“Hilda.” 


CHAPTER XI 

A NEW JOY IN LIFE 

ALVATORE ROSSI rented 
a small apartment in New 
York, as he was engaged to 
play the entire season at the 
Hippodrome. He and his 
children always craved the 
comforts of a home, and they kept house 
whenever it was possible. 

Rossi belonged to the school of acrobats 
who looked on life and their calling with 
the deepest respect. He was an educated 
man, and he thoroughly loved his vocation. 

One morning soon after their arrival, he 
took Hilda to the gymnasium to learn what 
she could do. 

^‘Silvio seems to think she knows a good 
deal, but I ’d better go on the principle that 
she has everything to learn, Rossi said to 
himself. 

Meanwhile Hilda was arraying herself 
139 



140 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


in some fleshings Leonora had bought for 
her. The young girl felt very strange in 
them, hut not as strange as an ordinary 
child would have felt, for her father had 
accustomed her to a costume. Still she was 
bashful about appearing in it even though 
she expected to see no one but Mr. Rossi, 
who had purposely gone to the gymnasium 
very early. 

When she was finally out in the middle 
of the floor, Rossi looked her over approv- 
ingly, and smiled to himself. 

‘‘She looks more of a midget than ever,’^ 
he thought. “If she knows anything at all, 
she cannot fail of being a favorite. ’ ^ 

“My child,’’ he said, “you may some- 
times find me very strict, but I shall always 
have your good at heart. A modern 
teacher would begin with just floor work- 
flip-flaps,” he added contemptuously. “I 
’m glad to say I was trained in the old 
school.” His piercing eyes grew even 
brighter while his tone and manner were 
so compelling that his little pupil hung on 
every word he uttered. “Then our in- 
structors made grace the first essential. 


A New Joy in Life 


141 


Nowadays gjrmnastics seem their one 
thought. They don’t mind how the novice 
uses his arms and legs and therefore his 
work is almost always angular. He scales 
up a rope anyway to get there.” 

His eyes snapped. Hilda felt that in him 
she would have a very strict master. 

I ’ll not tolerate awkwardness in my 
pupils. There ’s Silvio for example. He 
knows how to cross a stage. His arms 
move with a free sweep. When he climbs 
he is always applauded. His movements 
remind spectators of a perfect statue come 
to life. Thus they learned in old Grecian 
days when athletes truly was an art. So, 
child, you must he graceful.” 

What— what shall I do to be graceful, 
Mr. Eossi?” stammered Hilda. 

‘^Hold your arms this way. Now come 
up on one toe, at the same time swinging 
one hand up and the other down with a free 
curving movement,” and he illustrated 
what he wished done. 

Hilda copied him exactly. 

‘‘Good, good,” cried Eossi. 

Then he tried her on a number of other 


142 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


exercises for suppleness and freedom. He 
watched her every move, hut even with his 
critical eye failed to find many defects. 

‘‘Versen has done very well indeed by 
her,’’ he thought. 

Next he put her through some floor work, 
and discovered that in this also she had 
much more knowledge and aptitude than 
he had dared hope. 

He also had her climb up on the bars, 
and do a little work there. He was more 
delighted than ever. 

‘^That ’s enough for to-day, Hilda,” he 
said, ‘‘you ’ve done so well that I shall ar- 
range for rehearsals with Leonora and 
Silvio and my assistants at the Hippo- 
drome. If I ’m not greatly mistaken you ’ll 
need only a little practice before you can 
appear with us. I ’ll have to get a license 
for you, but I can easily arrange that.” 

“And can you make me graceful, Mr. 
Rossi?” 

“No, Hilda, I can’t make you graceful.” 
Then he added hastily, “you are graceful 
already.” 

“You can go now,” continued Rossi, 


A New Joy in Life 


143 


when she was down on the floor beside him. 
‘ ^ Tell Leonora not to expect me home this 
noon. I will meet them at the Hippo- 
drome. ’ ^ 

Their apartment was within walking 
distance, and on the way home Hilda 
chanced to hear an organ grinder. Even 
this poor playing made the mnsiohungry 
girl feel so badly that she could scarcely 
keep back the tears. It stirred within her 
an intense longing for Mrs. Mortimer, and 
all that Mrs. Mortimer meant. The glow 
that had come when Rossi praised her was 
gone. She no longer wanted to be an acro- 
bat ; she wanted to be a singer like Madame 
Von Arnim. 

Reaching home, she was glad that 
neither Leonora nor Silvio saw her enter. 
Her room was at the back of the flat. She 
heard the sister and brother in the dining- 
room— Silvio had his lessons there morn- 
ings, and it had been agreed that Hilda 
should join in them as soon as she re- 
turned. But now she felt too disconsolate. 
So she glided into the sitting room, and 


144 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


threw herself down on the lounge without 
even stopping to remove her wraps. 

Here a little later Silvio found her in 
tears. 

‘‘What ’s the matter, Hilda? he cried, 
bending over her. “Are you homesick? 
What makes you cry?’^ 

“I— I heard some music on the street,’’ 
she sobbed, without raising her tear- 
stained face from the cushion. 

“ Don ’t you like music ? ’ ’ 

“I— I love it better than anything else in 
the world. I ’d give a good deal to hear 
some now.” 

Silvio ’s pulse heat fast. 

“Where ’s Father?” he asked, turning 
quite red because of the thought he had in 
mind. 

“He ’s not coming home.” 

“Stop crying then, Hilda. I ’ll play for 
you.” 

She looked up at him in surprise. “You? 
Do you really play?” 

“A little,” he answered sheepishly, “hut 
don’t let Father know.” 

“Why not?” 


A New Joy in Life 


145 


hates music. My grandfather 
taught me while my father was out on the 
road. When my father discovered my love 
of playing, he was angrier than I Ve ever 
seen him since. He took me away with 
him, vowing that I should n’t he a musi- 
cian. ’ ’ 

^ H ’m so glad you like music. I ’m wild 
to hear you play,” then her face fell. ‘‘But 
we have n’t a piano.” 

“But I have a violin,” he said triumph- 
antly, and flew out of the room. 

A moment later he returned, case in 
hand. 

“My grandfather gave me this violin,” 
he explained as he drew it lovingly out. 
“It has a beautiful tone. It ’s very valu- 
able, too.” 

His sparkling eyes and animated face 
showed Hilda that he truly loved music. 

“But I wish he sang, or even played the 
piano,” she thought and this feeling grew 
stronger as he tuned his violin. She 
wanted to run from the room so discordant 
were the sounds. 

“Now it ’s all ready,” said Silvio. He 

% 


146 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


was radiantly happy, himself, which de- 
luded him into the belief that she was 
equally pleased. ‘‘What kind of a piece 
would you like ! ’ ’ 

“Oh,— I don^t know,’’ she stammered. 

He ran his bow thoughtfully across the 
strings. Hilda did not shudder now for the 
tone he drew forth was very beautiful. She 
noted also the grace of his attitude. His 
bearing the true music-lover. 

When he began to play, Hilda ’s surprise 
and delight were unbounded. 

“I did n’t know violin music was like 
that,” she thought. “It ’s almost as good 
as hearing Madame Von Amim. He makes 
the violin sing. ’ ’ 

Under the magic of his exquisite touch, 
all her sadness fled. Her longing was sat- 
isfied; joy flooded her soul. She leaned far 
forward. She loved to watch as well as to 
hear the young boy with his genius in- 
spired eyes. 

“Silvio,” she cried enthusiastically as 
he finished the melody, “that was very 
beautiful.” 

“It is beautiful, is n’t it!— not my play- 



148 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


ing but the piece. My grandfather com- 
posed it for me.’^ 

‘^That makes it all the nicer. Please 
play something else for me. ’ ’ 

He began a quaint little tune. It was 
sweetly simple, and Hilda liked it almost 
more than the first selection. 

love that. Did your grandfather 
compose it, too, Silvio?’^ 

His face turned very red. ‘^No,’’ he 
stammered, I— ’’ 

She wondered at his embarrassment. 
Still blushing, he finally blurted out, ^ * It 
just came into my head one day after 
grandfather had been talking to me about 
music. He liked it so much that he helped 
me write it down.’’ 

You don’t really mean you composed it 
yourself? How perfectly lovely. It ’s so 
very sweet, I wish there were words to it. 
I ’d love to sing it. ’ ’ 

^^Do you sing?” 

‘‘Yes, a little.” 

‘ ‘ Then you must sing for me. ’ ’ 

“Oh, I could n’t after your playing. You 
ought to be a musician.” 


A New Joy in Life 


149 


‘‘That ’s what grandfather always said, 
though sometimes he could he very strict 
with me. Once in a great while he ’d 
snatch my violin from me shouting, ‘No, 
no, Silvio, that ’s not right, you should play 
this way.’ Then when I caught his mean- 
ing, and he was satisfied, he ’d press me to 
his heart crying, ‘ Silvio, my boy, the world 
will hear from you yet. You ’ve genius, 
genius ! When I am dead and gone, you ’ll 
remember my words. You cannot fail. 
The music in your soul must make itself 
heard.’ But he did n’t know,” sighed Sil- 
vio, his enthusiasm dying out. “Father 
will never, never consent. He hates music 
too much.” 

“I wonder why?” asked Hilda. 

“ I ’m not sure. Leonora did tell me that 
my mother’s being a singer had something 
to do with it, but she would never tell me 
anything more. Both she and father act 
so mysterious about my mother, they will 
hardly let me mention her name. Some- 
times I ’d give anything to be back in Italy 
with my grandfather. ’ ’ 


150 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


^‘Are you ever going back to him?’’ 
asked Hilda, her eyes round with wonder. 

don’t know. I ’ve always dreamed of 
going some day. The last thing grand- 
father said was, ‘Silvio, don’t be discour- 
aged. Your father has the right to make 
you do as he wishes now, but he cannot al- 
ways hold you in check. Take your violin 
along with you, and no matter how your 
father makes you work, don’t let your 
fingers grow stiff. Practice whenever you 
can. Your old grandfather will always be 
waiting for you in Florence, and some day 
you ’ll come back to him. Then together 
we ’ll make a wonderful musician of you.’ 
This has encouraged me to keep up my 
practice.” 

“Would n’t it be lovely if you could be a 
violinist, and I could be a singer?” 

“That would be splendid! Please sing 
something,” he added, more to be polite 
than from any real interest. 

“I— I don’t know much about music.” 

‘ ‘ Oh never mind. I ’ll not criticise you, ’ ’ 
he answered in rather a lofty manner. He 
seated himself on the couch, still holding 


A New Joy in Life 


151 


his violin. He loved to keep it near him. 
As Hilda still hesitated he said, Stand 
over there where I can see yon. ’ ’ 

I ’ll jnst sit in this rocker,” she an- 
swered. To reassure herself she recalled 
how Madame Von Arnim had praised her 
singing. 

As soon as she was seated, she began the 
song the great prima donna had taught her. 
At first her voice trembled slightly. Soon, 
however, she lost her fear, and her notes 
flowed forth with the old power and sweet- 
ness. 

Silvio’s surprise was even greater than 
Hilda’s had been. He gazed spellbound at 
the little songstress. She appeared trans- 
formed. Had an angel appeared before 
him, he would have been no more dumb- 
founded. 

His astonishment was so great that he 
uttered no word, but stared so strangely 
at her that she blushed. 

‘‘I— I told you I did n’t know much about 
music,” she murmured misinterpreting 
his silence. 

This aroused him. In a burst of enthu- 


152 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


siasm, he rushed over and caught her by 
the arm. 

‘‘Why did n’t you tell me?” he de- 
manded, his eyes ablaze. 

‘ ‘ Tell you what ? ’ ’ 

“That you can sing. Oh, it ’s a great 
pity!” 

She was hurt. “A— pity that I sing?” 

“No, no. If I had known, you should not 
be wasting your life at trapeze work. Now 
father ’ll want to keep you at it always.” 

She looked up at him timidly smiling. 
“Madame Von Arnim liked my voice. She 
said I ’d be a great singer some day. ’ ’ 

“Madame Von Arnim? Who ’s she?” 

“Don’t you know? She ’s the great, 
great contralto.” 

Silvio had heard Madame Von Arnim 
sing, but he thought it impossible that 
Hilda meant her. 

“You don’t really know Madame Von 
Arnim?” 

Hilda nodded her head gravely. She 
was making up her mind to confide in 
Silvio. 

“She was on the boat,” and then she 


A New Joy in Life 


153 


told about Madame Von Amim and Mrs. 
Mortimer. She ended with the tragedy of 
the night when she had accosted him. 

‘^You should n’t have left Mrs. Morti- 
mer that way, ’ ’ commented Silvio. 

‘‘But I could n’t be a burden,” cried 
Hilda. ‘ ‘ She ’s poor. ’ ’ 

“No matter how poor she was, she ’d 
want you,” returned Silvio with convic- 
tion. “A singer like Madame Von Arnim 
would not praise your voice as she did un- 
less it was very unusual. Tell me more 
about her.” 

“This is the ring she gave me,” said 
Hilda, holding up her hand for him to see. 
‘ ‘ She said it was to be a pledge that she ’d 
always help me. ’ ’ 

Silvio made a motion as if to draw the 
ring from her finger. 

‘ ‘ Let ’s send it to her, and write that you 
need help. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I could n ’t part with my ring. It might 
never reach her,” she answered, withdraw- 
ing her hand. 

“Hilda, you. must be a singer.” Silvio 


154 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


began walking np and down. He was try- 
ing to plan a suitable future for her. 

Suddenly he stepped in front of her. 
‘ H ’ll tell you what ! I ’ll save up money, 
and then we can run away to grandfather. 
He ’ll help you, too, I know.” 

Hilda shook her head. 

That would n’t be right. It would make 
your father feel terribly, and he is very 
good to me. Besides I must make money 
for Mrs. Mortimer. ’ ’ 

Silvio hated to relinquish his plan, but 
he knew that he was wrong. So he began 
searching his mind to think what else 
might be done. 

Then he had an idea. He hastened to the 
table and picked up a paper. In new ex- 
citement he turned the pages to the amuse- 
ment column and glanced rapidly over the 
notices. 

Farewell performance, Saturday after- 
noon, Madame Von Arnim”— he read, and 
let the paper drop. 

‘‘Oh Hilda,” he cried, turning to her 
and catching her by the arm, “I Ve a won- 
derful idea.” 


A New Joy in Life 


155 


^ ^ What is it r ’ she cried. 

He shook his head tantalizingly, and let 
go of her arm. 

’m afraid I can’t arrange it. Father 
’d be awful angry.” 

‘^Please tell me about it anyway.” 

^‘No, I must n’t raise false hopes, so I ’ll 
not tell. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XII 

SILVIO SURPRISE 

HE following morning Sil- 
vio started to leave home 
immediately after break- 
fast. 

* ‘ Silvio , ^ ^ called Ro s si, 
^‘you know you ’re to be at 
the Hippodrome at ten. I Ve arranged to 
have Hilda practice there then.” 

Hilda did up the breakfast dishes, as 
Leonora had some marketing to see to. 
These domestic tasks made Hilda feel much 
more at home. 

“When father planned to take me with 
him, I used to wonder what professional 
people would be like. They ’re just like 
everybody else— at least the Rossis are,” 
she thought. 

“We must be going, Hilda,” called 
Rossi. 

“Do you know where Silvio went this 
156 



Silvio’s Surprise 


157 


morning?’’ he asked when they were out- 
side. 

^‘No, sir.” 

^‘Well, he and Leonora are up to some- 
thing. I caught them whispering last 
night, and they acted confused when they 
saw me. This morning, Leonora asked if 
I could n’t arrange to have our act earlier 
Saturday, as Silvio wants to get off. I ’d 
have refused, but she reminded that he ’d 
never asked such a thing before, and she 
said that he wanted to take you somewhere 
with him. So I decided it would be all 
right.” 

Hilda was pleased that Silvio was thus 
thinking of her, and wondered what treat 
he could be planning. 

Hilda,” continued Eossi, want you 
to make your debut just as soon as possi- 
ble. That ’s one reason I let Silvio have 
his holiday with you. Hereafter you ’ll be 
kept pretty busy. For after you ’re once 
able to act regularly with us, we ’ll have to 
think about some tutoring for you. I in- 
tend you shall be just as well educated as 
my own children.” 


158 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


When they had reached their destination 
Kossi took Hilda behind the scenes, and 
upstairs to a dressing room. 

She found Leonora awaiting her, and 
there was also a dark lady who turned at 
Hilda’s entrance and stared at her. 

^^This is Madame Antoinette Hepp, 
Hilda. She speaks 'French. ’ ’ 

‘‘Does the little thing speak French 
also?” asked Madame Hepp, never taking 
her small, beady, black eyes off Hilda. 

“I— I don’t believe I ’ll like her,” 
thought Hilda. 

As soon as all three were ready, they 
joined Rossi. Silvio was with his father, 
and also a little Frenchman who proved to 
be the dark lady’s husband. From the first 
Hilda disliked his manner. She noticed 
that he never looked her straight in the 
eye, and while he was speaking he rubbed 
his hands. 

“You ’re to be one of us now, so I ’m 
told, my dear. That is very nice indeed,” 
he said to her, and smiled. Even this did 
not make Hilda change her opinion. There 




160 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


was no sincerity in either his speech or his 
smile. 

Then he turned to his wife, who was 
much larger than himself. 

^ ‘ My angel, ’ ’ he said, reaching up on tip- 
toe to kiss her. 

‘ ^ She ’s a funny angel dressed all in red 
like that,’’ thought Hilda. 

The lady drew haughtily away from his 
caress. He was not to he rebuffed and 
again he sidled close to her, and slipped his 
arm about her waist. 

Kossi now called them all to go up on the 
bars. Hilda, utterly unafraid and fully as 
nimble and graceful as Silvio himself, went 
up beside the others. 

Eossi watched her with growing pride 
and wonder. Later he tested her in many 
ways, and she promptly attempted all that 
he called for, usually accomplishing what 
he wished. 

You ’re wonderful, Hilda,” Eossi cried 
in an unwonted burst of enthusiasm. 
^‘You ’re agile as a panther. I predict a 
great success for you.” 

Silvio overheard and looked glum. 


Silvio’s Surprise 


161 


‘‘Father,” he said later, “I don’t believe 
Hilda ’ll ever make a success as an acro- 
bat. She—” 

Kossi turned his dark, flashing eyes an- 
grily on his son. 

“Shame on you, Silvio, I hope you ’re 
not jealous. Hilda learns even quicker 
than you did. Why do you talk so?” 

“She should n’t be an acrobat,” Silvio 
declared doggedly. 

This aroused Eossi to new ire. He tried 
to get Silvio to acknowledge Hilda’s abil- 
ity, but to no avail. Eossi, in a towering 
rage, finally turned and left him. 

“My was n’t he mad,” Silvio chuckled. 
“Well, he ’ll be worse soon, but it serves 
him right for being so down on music.” 

On Saturday afternoon, Silvio escorted 
Hilda to the Hippodrome, and seated her 
near the back of the house. 

“I ’ll hurry as fast as I can,” he said. 
“No encores for me to-day— I ’ll bungle if 
necessary. Have your wraps on and don’t 
keep me waiting a second.” 

Hilda was deeply interested now in the 
coming performance of her friends. In 


162 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


among the audience thus, it did not seem 
possible that she herself, would shortly 
make her appearance on the great stage. 

‘^Suppose I fail?” she thought fearfully. 

In a daze, she listened to the orchestra. 
Even the first spectacle held her attention 
only slightly. Her mind was full of ‘‘our 
act,” as she now termed Salvatore Rossi ^s 
troupe. 

When they appeared, she was greatly 
pleased with the applause they received. 

“But they deserve it,” she thought 
proudly. 

She leaned far forward. Their skill 
made her more fearful of failure for her- 
self. 

“I want to be a credit to them,” she 
sighed, “but oh, would n’t it be nice if 
Silvio could be a violinist, and I could sing ! 
We ’d be so much happier.” 

As Silvio predicted, the Rossi troupe 
gave no encores that day. The next act 
was hurried on in spite of the dissatisfac- 
tion of the audience. 

In an incredibly short time, Hilda saw 
the eager, handsome Silvio coming toward 


Silvio’s Surprise 


163 


her. She ran to meet him, and in a moment 
more was walking rapidly out into the 
street with him. 

‘‘Hilda, we must hurry,’’ he urged, as 
if they were not almost running already. 
Grasping her by the arm, he marched her 
to a car so fast that it took her breath 
away. 

“We ’ve missed the overture and some 
of the singing anyway,” he said, as he 
dropped down on the seat beside her. 

“Overture? Singing? Where are we 
going?” 

Silvio smiled. “You ’ll know soon.” He 
fumbled inside his coat and shyly pulled 
out a dainty package rolled in tissue paper. 

“I— I thought you ’d like to wear some 
flowers, ’ ’ he stammered. 

She eagerly removed the tissue paper. 
‘ ‘ Violets ! Oh, how sweet ! ’ ’ she exclaimed, 
so delighted that he did not regret the ex- 
travagant price he had paid. 

“Thank you, thank you ever so much, 
Silvio. No one ever gave me flowers be- 
fore, and I do love them so.” 

He was too bashful to answer. It was 


164 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


his first gift to a girl, and as he silently 
watched her pin the violets on her coat, it 
made him feel quite grown np.’’ 

‘‘Here we are,’^ he cried, hurrying her 
from the car. Before them was a big build- 
ing into which Silvio led her. 

“I could n’t afford seats downstairs, but 
we can hear just as well up above. You 
don’t mind, do you?” he asked anxiously. 

“Indeed I don’t mind,” she replied with 
beaming face. 

After presenting his tickets, Silvio again 
grasped Hilda by the arm, and began rac- 
ing upstairs. 

“I ’m afraid we ’ve missed more than I 
thought,” he said at the first upstairs 
foyer. “There ’s no music so it must be 
between acts.” 

“Acts?” questioned Hilda. Her only 
idea of a musical entertainment was a con- 
cert. “I thought they only had acts in 
places like the Hippodrome.” 

He was inclined to laugh at her igno- 
rance. The next instant he was delighted 
because he was about to reveal a new 
world of delight to her. 


Silvio’s Surprise 


165 


‘‘I can’t explain now,” and on they flew, 
their training making them unmindful of 
the climb. 

‘‘We are up pretty high,” he com- 
mented at the topmost landing, “but then 
all good things are up, not down.” 

He was perfectly familiar with his sur- 
roundings, and led Hilda through an open- 
ing. Then an usher conducted them down 
a steep incline to their seats. 

“It ’s as I feared. We ’ve missed an 
act,” whispered Silvio. 

Hilda was overpowered by the immen- 
sity of the building. True she had just 
come from the Hippodrome, but never be- 
fore had she been where she could look 
down on all the people. 

‘ ‘ Hurry and get your wraps otf , so ’s to 
be ready for the second act,” whispered 
Silvio. 

Hardly was she seated before the or- 
chestra took up the theme, and the curtain 
rose. 

At first Hilda was confused by so many 
people on the stage all singing at once. She 


166 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


wondered why they were there, and what 
they were doing. 

Then a new lady came on the stage and 
began to sing. 

‘ ^ Silvio, ’ ’ gasped Hilda, seizing his hand 
convulsively, and so excited that she conld 
hardly control her voice, ^‘Who is she? 
Who is she?^^ 

He pressed her hand reassuringly, look- 
ing back into her wonderstruck eyes al- 
most excited as she. 

‘‘Don’t you know, Hilda?” 

“It ’s Madame Von Arnim’s voice, but 
she does n’t look like her.” 

Silvio smiled, well pleased. “She ’s 
made up for the part.” 

“It ’s Madame Von Arnim then,” she 
ejaculated hysterically. 

There was no time to say another word. 
Both the girl and boy were held spell- 
bound by Madame Von Amim’s singing. 
In all that vast audience, she did not have 
two more enthusiastic worshippers. 

Not once in Madame Von Amim’s tri- 
umphant career, had she received a more 
wonderful ovation than followed the end 


Silvio’s Surprise 


167 


of that song. The audience would not let 
the performance go on and brought the 
great contralto to the front of the stage 
time and time again. 

Hilda was in an ecstasy of delight. She 
wanted to stand up and huzza as Silvio did. 
She clapped so hard that she almost be- 
lieved her famous friend must be conscious 
of her presence. For Madame Von Amim, 
bowing and smiling, looked up at the gal- 
lery directly at her as it seemed*. Hilda’s 
heart stopped beating for a few seconds. 

This was the most exciting moment of 
the afternoon, although Hilda enjoyed 
every instant. 

Between acts she tried to thank Silvio, 
but her enthusiasm was so great that she 
felt her words were most inadequate. 

At the final fall of the curtain, Hilda’s 
heart sank. Then Silvio said something 
that made her blood bound more wildly 
than ever. 

^‘Now we ’re going to see Madame Von 
Amim. I found out where she ’s stopping, 
and I ’m going to take you to her, Hilda.” 

She was too startled to utter a word. 


168 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Then he hurried her downstairs and out- 
side. 

We ’ll walk; the hotel is near,” he said. 

‘‘She— she may have forgotten me, ” fal- 
tered Hilda. 

“I don’t believe so, Hilda, if Madame 
Von Arnim helps you to be a- singer, I ’m 
bound some day to be a violinist. I ’ll 
learn more how to compose and I ’ll write 
a great opera for you.” 

“Oh how grand that ’ll be, Silvio,” she 
cried'. 

With childish enthusiasm they pictured 
their future to each other in roseate hues. 

“Father ’ll never forgive me, I know, 
but I don’t care,” said Silvio. “Your 
voice must be cultivated. You ’ll be as 
great a singer as Madame Yon- Arnim.” 

“Silvio, you can’t mean that,” she 
gasped. 

“If I did n’t think so, I would n’t be 
helping you. I hate to have you go away 
from us.” 

“How good you are to me,” she mur- 
mured, her eyes moist. 

His encouragement made her hopeful. 


Silvio’s Surprise 


169 


At the hotel, however, she experienced a 
reaction. 

I believe I ’m scared,” she whis- 
pered. ^‘We — we ’d better give np trying 
to see her.” 

^^Oh nonsense,” he answered. ‘‘Come 
on, ’ ^ and he marched boldly up to the office 
desk, Hilda timidly following. 

Then he spoke to the clerk in English, 
and Hilda could not understand. 

The minute Silvio turned around, Hilda 
knew that something was wrong. 

“Madame Von Arnim ’s. gone.” 

“Gone?” repeated Hilda blankly. 

“Yes, the clerk said she had given up 
her rooms, and was starting off immedi- 
ately after the opera on a short concert 
tour. ’ ^ 

Suddenly some of the brightness re- 
turned to his face. “We dl try again when 
she comes back, and I ^m glad that you and 
I are to be together awhile longer, Hilda.” 

She smiled bravely back at him. To just 
miss Madame Von Arnim was one of the 
greatest disappointments in her life. Still 
she was glad, like Silvio, that he and she 
were not to be immediately separated. 


CHAPTER XIII 

THE NEW ACT 

HE great night when Hilda 
was to make her bow to the 
public had arrived. With 
a red cloak drawn closely 
around her, she stood with 
the Rossi troupe in the 
wings of the Hippodrome. 

Her cheeks were scarlet, but the rest of 
her face was whiter than usual. The pupils 
of her eyes were expanded to the utmost. 
Otherwise she was outwardly calm, but in- 
wardly fear possessed her. 

Silvio held her hand, and that calmed 
her a little. Even he did not realize how 
greatly she needed encouragement. She 
had done such wonderful work at rehears- 
als that he never dreamed of stage fright 
at the critical moment. Still he uncon- 
sciously reassured her. He was proud of 
her and did not hesitate to say so. 

170 



The New Act 


171 


Hilda,” he whispered, you did n’t 
know how to do one single thing, the people 
’d like you, because you look prettier than 
I ever saw you to-night. They won’t ex- 
pect much from such a little thing, and 
then when you show them how expert you 
are, they ’ll he wild over you. They ’re 
sure to think you great. ’ ’ 

‘‘I— I ’ll try to do my best,” she fal- 
tered. 

The principals, the great chorus and the 
clowns now began marching off. Then the 
stage was emptied, the music ceased mo- 
mentarily while the bars were being put 
up. 

To add to Hilda’s terror, she noticed the 
stage people were clustering in the wings 
waiting with unwonted interest for the ap- 
pearance of the little novice, who, by her 
daring at rehearsals had already won the 
admiration of many. 

One clown, alone, noted Hilda’s fright. 
He often had made her laugh by his antics, 
and now hoping to reassure her, he twisted 
his face into a grimace that had always 


172 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


amused her. But now it had the opposite 
effect. It made her feel like crying. 

‘‘That ’s the way people ’ll look if I 
fail,” she thought miserably. 

“Dear little Hilda,” said Eossi, turning 
to her, and speaking more tenderly than he 
ever had, “I expect to he very proud of 
you to-night. I know you ’ll not disap- 
point me. ’ ’ 

At this instant the stage was flooded 
with light. Silvio let go of Hilda’s hand. 
The music struck up. Eossi and Silvio all 
in white started forward. Hepp helped 
his wife off with her coat. Leonora threw 
hers off. Hilda was suddenly so terrified 
tJiat she forgot to remove hers. 

In a moment more keeping close to the 
others, she found herself out near the 
front of the enormous stage. Her head 
was in such a whirl and the lights so 
blinded her that unconsciously she turned 
from them, but began to bow as she had 
been taught 

Immediately the great audience laughed. 

Silvio caught Hilda by the arm, turning 
her in the right direction. 


The New Act 


173 


‘‘Throw some kisses to them/’ he im- 
plored. 

Obediently she began wafting kisses to 
right and left. This was the beginning of 
her conquest. 


174 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘What a dear, sweet mite,’^ thought 
some of the spectators, while others com- 
pared her to “Little Eed Eiding Hood.’^ 
They all applauded her and that embar- 
rassed her more and more. 

Silvio unfastened her cloak and quickly 
carried it to the wings. 

In her white silk tights Hilda looked 
smaller than ever. She was so dainty, so 
fairy-like that from the first the audience 
found the dear, wee child so attractive that 
they loved her without expecting much 
from her in an artistic way. 

Silvio, rejoining her, whispered, “Now 
we must go on with our act. ’ ^ 

“I— I canT,” she faltered. 

“Father, she ’s scared,’’ whispered Sil- 
vio to Eossi. 

Eossi gave Hilda one quick glance. 
Then with happy inspiration, he seized 
both Hilda and Silvio and swung them up 
by his sinewy, strong arms to his shoul- 
ders. He stepped forward with them and 
bowed. 

While the audience applauded, he 


The New Act 


175 


pressed his cheek close to the little face 
nestling near him for protection. 

‘‘My dear,” he murmured, “I ’m very 
proud of you. ’ ’ 

“Proud of mef” she repeated blankly. 
“I was afraid I ’d disgraced you.” 

“No indeed. You Ve won their hearts. 
You have nothing to fear,” and with a 
swing he quietly landed both children on 
their feet. Though he spoke so confidently 
he was nervous.^ In addition to the novelty 
of Hilda’s debut, he was intending an ex- 
periment with the public which he had 
placed at the very beginning of their act. 

‘ ‘ If it ’s a failure, we can win back favor 
by our usual work,” he had said to Silvio. 
So he with Silvio and Hilda, quickly as- 
cended to the trapeze. 

The audience already expected some- 
thing unusual. They noticed that the net 
was not in place. 

Rossi lowered two long white streamers. 
Then with slow grace he wound himself 
about a third of the distance down these. 
Silvio followed, poising airily within a few 


176 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


feet of his father. Next Hilda slid to her 
place. 

The three white-rohed figures floating 
with such ease in mid-air, reminded the 
spectators of Greek statues and that illu- 
sion was heightened, when with chaste, 
harmonious movements the performers 
melted from one faultless grouping to an- 
other. 

This experiment of Eossi’s was the first 
time aerial posing was performed in Amer- 
ica. Its success was unbounded. Every- 
one was wildly enthusiastic. The skill of 
the performers seemed all the more mar- 
velous because of the smallness and evi- 
dent youthfulness of Silvio and Hilda. 

When the three finally descended to the 
stage, a wild burst of approval followed. 
It was so loud and prolonged that it al- 
most scared Hilda. To Eossi no music 
could have been as sweet. 

^^Our fortune is made,” he murmured 
enthusiastically to Hilda. 

Time and again they had to acknowledge 
the plaudits of the people. 

The net was quickly placed. Even yet 


The New Act 


177 


the audience were loath to let the enthusi- 
asm subside. 

Hilda’s success during the rest of the act 
was remarkable. 

Her trapeze work elicited unstinted ad- 
miration. Her youthfulness, her grace, her 
fearlessness, combined with unusual agil- 
ity caused delighted comment. 

At the end of the act, Eossi carried her 
otf in triumph on his shoulder. Outside 
the wings he pressed her close to his heart, 
kissing her in the exuberance of his joy. 

‘‘Hilda you ’ve a great future before 
you.” 

Silvio danced around in unfeigned hax> 
piness. 

“I knew she could n’t fail. I knew it.” 

“My dear son,” Eossi exclaimed tremu- 
lously, “now you ’re your own sweet self. 
Thank God,” he added. “Silvio’s jealousy 
did not last long.” 

Lfoonora, too, was mightily delighted. 

“My angel,” whispered Hepp to his 
wife, “she ’s made a hit sure enough.” 

“Yes, and we must keep our eyes open. 
We ’ll not be in it if we ’re not careful.” 


178 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


^ ^ She ’ll make a fortune for Eossi, ’ ’ mut- 
tered Hepp enviously. 

^‘We must get on the right side of her. 
No telling what may happen.” 

So they, too, expressed admiration. 
Seemingly they were greatly pleased. 

Both Hilda and Silvio felt very much 
grown up that night, for Eossi took them 
with Leonora and the Hepps out to sup- 
per. 

As the climax of the evening, Eossi upon 
reaching home, handed Hilda a roll of dol- 
lar hills. 

cannot afford to pay you much at 
first,” he said, ‘‘but from now on, you shall 
have this same sum every week.” 

“Not for my very, very own?” she 
gasped. “Not to spend just as I like?” 

Assured that the money was hers to do 
with as she pleased, Hilda seized Eossi ’s 
hand and kissed it. 

“Oh, how good you are to me,” she 
cried. 

“Good night, dear child,” and Eossi left 
the room. 


The New Act 


179 


Hilda turned to Silvio, who was still 
standing beside her. 

‘‘Just to think that this money is all my 
very own/’ 

“You ’ll make many times that amount 
before long,” answered Silvio confidently. 

“That ’s too good to be true. This is the 
happiest night of my life.” 

“Don’t be so glad that you ’ll want to 
give up being a singer.” 

“Being an acrobat is pretty good after 
all. It ’s lovely making so very, very 
much. ’ ’ 

Silvio began to fear she might be mer- 
cenary. His opinion would have been very 
different had he seen a letter that Hilda 
wrote. This is what she said : 

“My dear, dear Mrs. Mortimer: 

“I ’m earning money now, and I ’m so 
happy to send you most of it— I saved out 
just a little for mother and Annette. 

“Silvio— he ’s the boy I wrote about— 
says before very long I ’ll be making lots 
more. When I make enough, will you come 
and live with me? 


180 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘ ‘ I love you with all my heart and would 
give anything to see you. 

Your Own LfOving 

‘ ^ Hilda. 

Next morning the press agent of the 
Hippodrome came early to see Rossi. 

We Ve got to rush Hilda around to the 
photographer’s, Rossi,” he said. 

Hilda to the photographer’s?” Rossi 
repeated. 

^‘Why yes, man. Have n’t you seen the 
morning’s papers? They ’re all full of 
Hilda’s success. So we must make her the 
rage. We ’ll give her big headlines. I ’ll 
send her pictures to all the papers— we ’d 
better have one of her and Silvio together. 
I ’ve planned out a number of stories about 
her already. She ’ll be famous in no time. 
I ’ll wager thajt within a week you ’ll get a 
big raise in salary. Shall we call her Hilda 
in our press work?” 

Rossi shook his head. He was unpre- 
pared for so much fame for Hilda at first. 
American ways sometimes startled him. 
Nonetheless he was delighted. 


The New Act 


181 


we ’ll not call her Hilda,” he an- 
swered. ^‘Let me see— we ’d better have 
an Italian name— something appropriate 
to go with Silvio — Sylvia.” 

‘^Silvio and Sylvia. That ’s all right. 
Well, now I ’ll have a talk with Sylvia.” 

Eossi turned indignantly. ^‘See here, 
I ’ll not have you filling her head with a lot 
of nonsense. One of her greatest charms is 
her unafPectedness. I ’ll not run any risks 
of her being spoiled. I ’ll not let her know 
why we ’re taking her to the photog- 
rapher’s. I ’ll keep press notices from 
her. I ’ll do all in my power to keep her 
unspoiled.” 

A fine idea that,” interrupted the press 
agent, taking out his note book and jotting 
down something. “I ’ll write up how par- 
ticular you are. I ’ll say that no convent- 
bred girl could be more innocent than she. 
We ’ll harp on her innocence. It may 
catch on with the religiously inclined, and 
that ’ll be a great feather in our cap. I ’ll 
’phone you what time you ’re to have 
Sylvia at the photographers.” 


CHAPTER XIV 

THE OILY MR. HEPP 

HE following week when 
Rossi paid Hilda, he 
handed her just double the 
amount he had given her 
seven days before. She 
could hardly believe that 
he meant so much money for her. 

‘‘Mr. Rossi, you ’ve made a mistake,” 
she cried. “There’s twenty dollars here 
instead of ten.” 

“I know it, Hilda dear. You ’re worth 
more to me now.” 

“You should n’t give me so much. 
You ’re too good to me, Mr. Rossi.” 

Her gratitude made him ashamed, not 
that he had any wish to defraud her. 

“If I gave her what she ’s worth, it 
would turn her head,” he thought. “I ’ll 
make it up to her somehow.” 

That night Antoinette Hepp had a talk 
182 



The Oily Mrs. Hepp 


183 


with her husband. A look of cupidity shone 
in the beady eyes. 

^‘We Ve got to get her some way,” she 
concluded. ‘‘There ’s a fortune in it for 
us.” 

“My angel, I ’ll do the best I can,” 
agreed Hepp. 

The next afternoon, when Leonora and 
Hilda came down to the stage door ready 
to! return home, no Silvio awaited them as 
usual. 

“We ’ll not stop for him! I ’m in a 
hurry, ’ ’ said Leonora. 

“If you don’t mind, I ’ll wait.” 

So Hilda was left by the stage door 
alone. A moment later Hepp sidled up to 
her. 

“Ah, Hilda,” he began with his oily tone 
and smile, “I ’ve been waiting to catch you 
alone. Come up to my dressing room. My 
wife ’/s there. We want to talk to you.” 

Hilda shook her head. “Thank you, but 
I can’t go. Mr. Rossi never lets me go to 
anyone ^s dressing roonn” 

“What nonsense,” Hepp muttered, 


184 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


frowning. ‘^Are you always going to be 
bossed by Eossi?^’ 

‘^Mr. Eossi has been good to me/’ she 
answered simply. 

‘‘Good to you!” he demanded with a 
sneer. “I ’ll bet you a dollar he does n’t 
give you half what you ’re worth. How 
much does he pay you?” 

Hilda’s eyes flashed. She knew from 
Silvio that Mr. Eossi had picked the Hepps 
up in France, and was paying them more 
than double what they had made there. 
She thought Hepp very ungrateful. 

“You don’t know what you ’re talking 
about,” she answered in great indigna- 
tion. “The very first night, Mr. Eossi 
gave me ten dollars, and last night of his 
own accord, he raised it to twenty.” 

“Twenty dollars?” repeated Hepp 
scornfully. 

She mistook his scorn for wonder. “Yes, 
now you see how good he is to me. ’ ’ 

“I see that he knows how to fool you. 
Eh,” he exclaimed derisively. “I ’ll not 
let him deceive you any longer. I—” 


The Oily Mrs. Hepp 


185 


‘‘You shan’t talk against Mr. Eossi to 
me. I ’ll not listen.” 

“Don’t be so hot, Hilda. Facts are not 
slander. I ’m only going to tell you the 
truth. 

“I don’t want to know anything against 
Mr. Eossi,” and she turned to leave. 

Hepp sprang in front of her. 

“Don’t be huify, Hilda. I ’m only tell- 
ing you for your own good, and if you 
really believe in Eossi, the truth can’t hurt 
him. ’ ’ 

“That ’s so. But how am I to know that 
you will speak the truth?” 

“You can ask anyone if what I say is n’t 
so. Since you appeared, Eossi has had a 
raise of two hundred dollars a week. So 
do you think it fair for you to only get 
twenty? I den’t.” 

“I— I don’t believe I ’m worth more to 
Mr. Eossi,” Hilda stammered, so over- 
whelmed by Hepp ’s figures that she hardly 
knew what to say,” and anyway he took 
me before he knew I ’d be worth any- 
thing. ’ ’ 

“That ’s nothing. I ’d have taken you 


186 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


myself, and, without saying a word against 
Rossi, I ’ll tell you how to make more than 
you do. You ’d like more money, I know, 
and you shall have it. When our Hippo- 
drome engagement is over, my wife and I 
are going to start out on our own account. ’ ’ 

Hilda knew instinctively that such an 
action was dishonorable and she disliked 
Hepp more than ever. 

‘‘Did n’t Mr. Rossi bring you to Amer- 
ica?” she cried accusingly. 

“Yes,” he answered, a little shame- 
faced, though his cupidity promptly over- 
came any nobler sentiment. ‘ ‘ But I ’ve got 
to look out for our interest. It ’s everyone’s 
duty to do that, and if you ’ll come with 
Antoinette and me, I ’ll make a fortune for 
you, too.” 

“I— go with you?” For a moment she 
was stunned. 

“Yes,” continued Hepp persuasively. 
“Let me see— you say you get twenty dol- 
lars, well— but how about your board?” 

“I stay with Mr. Rossi,” she answered, 
hardly realizing that she was being bribed. 

“All right,” agreed Hepp, “you can 


The Oily Mrs. Hepp 


187 


stay with Antoinette and me— we ’ll treat 
you like our own child— and you shall have 
thirty dollars.” 

^ ^ I ’ll not go with you. I ’ll stay with my 
friends, as you ought to do,” she cried. 

To herself she said, ‘‘I ’ll tell Mr. Rossi 
about this. ’ ’ The next instant two reasons 
presented themselves to her loyal mind 
why she should keep silent. Their act was 
a dangerous one, she knew. It needed cool 
heads, and Rossi with his hot, Italian 
nature, would he terribly wrought up if he 
learned of Hepp’s treachery. 

^^They could n’t perform well together 
—some accident might happen, and then, 
too, if I told, Mr. Rossi might think I was 
after more money. I ’d not have him think 
that for the world. I ’ll not tell,” she de- 
cided. 

Meanwhile Hepp eyed her cunningly. 
He believed he had not made the bait suffi- 
ciently tempting— his rascality placed a 
price on everyone. 

see you ’re wiser than you seem,” he 
resumed. ‘^Very well. If you ’ll promise 
to stay with me for the next five years, I ’ll 


188 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


give you forty dollars and your board. 
What do you say to that ? ^ ’ 

‘‘I— I—’’ she stammered, her blood 
boiling. ^11 stay with Mr. Eossi. He ’s 
been good to me, and I ^m not going back 
on him now. ’ ^ 

^^What ^s she after now?^^ wondered 
Hepp. ‘ ^ Hilda, he said and would have 
placed his hand on her shoulder had she 
not shrunk from his touch. He misinter- 
preted her action. 

^^Don^t fear me. I ^11 promise never to 
whip you, and I ’ll not let Antoinette beat 
you either. ’ ’ 

‘‘Whip me! Beat me!” she repeated in 
amazement. 

“Does n’t Eossi ever whip you?” 

“No, indeed,” she cried indignantly. 

Hepp looked crestfallen. 

“I thought all masters treated their 
pupils that way,” he muttered apologetic- 
ally. Her look convinced him that com- 
mon as the custom is, she had never 
dreamed of such treatment. So, to set 
himself right with her, he laughingly 
added, “You thought me in earnest, but it 



190 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


was just a little joke. Of course I know 
Rossi would n’t whip you.” 

‘‘Were you joking about leaving Mr. 
Rossi, too?” 

^‘No, but—” 

Hilda again turned to leave. 

‘‘Hold on a moment, Hilda. You should 
n’t blame me for wanting you. You ’re 
very wonderful, and if you ’ll only oome 
with me, I ’ll push you ahead more than 
Rossi does. Then, too, you would n’t have 
Silvio to take any of the glory from you.” 

“I love to have people applaud Silvio. 
I-” 

“Don’t be a little fool. You ought to 
think of yourself, but perhaps you ’re only 
working me to see how much I ’m willing 
to pay. Well, what will you take?” 

Her eyes snapped. “No money could 
take me away from them,” she said in low 
tones, but so emphatically that Hepp had 
to believe. He was so angry that he caught 
Hilda by the shoulders, and shook her. 

“Let go of her,” cried Silvio, who had 
come within hearing a moment before. He 


The Oily Mrs. Hepp 


191 


sprang forward, catching Hepp by the 
arm. 

Hepp was so surprised that he let go of 
Hilda. 

‘‘So you Ve been listening,’’ he mut- 
tered. 

“No I have n’t either. I could not help 
hearing you ask Hilda what she ’d take. 
I~” 

‘ ‘ Here comes Mr. Rossi, ’ ’ warned Hilda. 
“Silvio, please don’t say a word before 
him. ’ ’ 

“Why not!” 

“I— I ’ll tell you later. Really you must 
n’t say a word before him.” 

“Hepp,” said Rossi as he joined them, 
“I have some business to talk over with 
you and your wife. I can’t stop now, but 
you might meet me at the restaurant for 
dinner. Tell Leonora I ’ll not be home,” 
he added to the children. 

“Hilda,” began Silvio when they were 
alone, “why was Hepp offering you 
money?” 

“It— it ’s nothing at all now, Silvio,” 
faltered Hilda. 


192 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘He was up to some mischief. I know it 
from the way he acted. I think you might 
tell me.” 

‘ ‘ Truly there ’s nothing I can tell, Silvio. 
And, oh, Silvio, if your father ’s not com- 
ing home, we ’ll have a chance to practice 
a little. Won’t that be lovely?” 

This distracted Silvio’s attention from 
Hepp. One of the greatest pleasures of 
childhood is the sharing of innocent 
secrets. During the charmed hours when 
Eos si was from home, Silvio and Hilda 
played and sang together. Since their dis- 
covery of each others gifts, he had brought 
home songs, and played the accompani- 
ment for Hilda whenever he could. 

Meantime Hepp, after leaving Eossi, 
hurried hack and rejoined his wife. 

‘ ‘ She ’ll not come with us, ’ ’ he cried an- 
grily. 

A cruel smile curved Antoinette’s red 
lips. “I ’d like to get charge of her. I ’d 
beat some sense into the hussy.” 

The wily Frenchman gazed at his wife 
admiringly. “My angel, I promised her I 
would n’t let you lay hands on her, but 


The Oily Mrs. Hepp 


193 


she ’s an impudent little brat, and I only 
wish you could take her in hand.^’ 

^^We ’ll try being nice to her awhile 
longer. Maybe we can win her over.” 

Hepp shook his head doubtfully. 

There ’s not much hope of that I fear.” 

‘‘Well, we must try anyway. If we can’t 
get her to go, there ’s no use of our leav- 
ing.” 

“Rossi has invited us out to dinner. It ’s 
about time for him to be speaking of 
plans for next year. Shall we sign with 
him?” 

“In the long run, we may have to, but 
let ’s make a bluff at leaving. That may 
make him offer us a raise anyway.” 


CHAPTER XV 


BITTER MEMORIES 



DO SSI and the Hepps were 
seated at table waiting for 
their order. 

thought it time for us 
to be getting down to busi- 
ness,” the master of the 
troupe was saying. You ’ll be pleased to 
hear that I ’m very well satisfied with your 
work. So I brought the papers along with 
me to-night to have you sign for two years 
as agreed. ’ ’ 

Hepp looked at his wife. She nodded her 
head encouragingly, 

‘‘Rossi, my dear fellow,” he said, rub- 
bing his hands nervously, “I know you 
would n’t want to stand in our light. Well, 
Antoinette and I have been offered more 
money. We ’d rather stay with you, but 
we know you would n’t ask us to without 
raising our salary. We—” 

194 




196 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


“I did n’t expect this from you,” inter- 
rupted Eossi angrily. ‘‘You don’t stop to 
consider all I Ve done for you. If — ” 

‘‘We can’t go on living on past favors. 
We ’ve got to have more money. We know 
you ’re too generous to stand in our light. ’ ’ 
“Go, for all of me,” cried Eossi impetu- 
ously rising. Grasping his hat and coat, 
he started angrily away. 

‘ ‘ Mr. Eossi, come back. We— ” 

But their ingratitude had so enraged him 
that he gave no heed. He rushed out of 
the door, leaving the Hepps looking blankly 
at each other. 

“What ’s to be done now?” cried the 
man. 

“You ’ll have to eat humble pie. Then 
we ’ve got to get Hilda.” 

“The ingrates,” muttered Eossi as he 
strode rapidly towards home. 

“I ’m well rid of them,” he added pres- 
ently. “The children and I ’ll take a vaca- 
tion this Spring, and run over to Italy. 
There I can easily pick up another couple 
as good as they. I want to arrange about 
that Eussian engagement for next winter 


Bitter Memories 


197 


anyway,” he decided just before reaching 
home. 

As he climbed the stairs to his apartment, 
a fresh young voice rang out in triumphant 
song. There was also a violin accom- 
paniment, hut Eossi did not dream that it 
was his son playing. 

hate music,” he said, but he knew that 
he deceived himself. Tonight the clear 
young voice awoke memories that would not 
be stilled. He paused irresolutely on the 
landing, and a sharp pain pierced his heart. 

‘ ^ So sang Adelaida in her innocent days 
with me,” he thought bitterly. ‘‘Oh, if it 
had n’t been for her singing, she would 
never have run away!” 

He rubbed his eyes in angry inpatience. 
“I must n’t stand here listening, or I shall 
be crying like a fool.” 

So he hurried towards his own apartment, 
hardening his heart as he went. 

Outside the door, he was brought to an 
abrupt standstill. 

“She— she can’t have come back,” he 
faltered, cold drops breaking out on his 


198 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


forehead. For a moment he felt too weak 
to face the unknown. 

‘ ^ It can ’t he Adelaida, ’ ^ he reassured him- 
self. Then he softly opened the outside door, 
and noiselessly made his way toward the 
sitting room. The next moment, the iden- 
tity of the young songstress came to him 
like a blow. 

‘^You, Hilda r’ he gasped, rushing to- 
ward her as if he meant her bodily harm. 

Silvio, startled as he was, placed him- 
self between his father and the trembling 
girl. 

‘‘Father,’^ he cried, ‘‘you must n’t hurt 
Hilda.” 

Rossi began to laugh wildly. “Oh, no— 
not hurt Hilda ! I can’t believe it even yet. 
I ’d never have let her into my house if I ’d 
known she sang.” 

Silvio was assured now that the battle 
was to be one of words, and: he laid his 
violin with loving care on the table, turned 
and spoke impetuously to Rossi. 

“But Hilda has a wonderful voice. We 
ought to help her cultivate it. She must be 
a singer.” 


Bitter Memories 


199 


Had his son struck him outright, Eossi 
could have been no more enraged. 

You— you,’’ he shrieked too overcome 
to express himself lucidly. Then the haunts 
ing fear of his soul broke from his white 
lips. 

‘‘And you?— Do you still dream that you 
will be a violinist?” 

Hilda, who thus far had been too fright- 
ened to say a word now stepped forward be- 
side Silvio. 

“Oh, Mr. Eossi,” she cried, “do let him 
be a violinist. He ’s— ” 

“Be quiet,” shouted Eossi, his eyes blaz- 
ing. ‘ ‘ I thought your coming to us a bless- 
ing, but instead I ’ve been harboring a viper 
in our home. How dare you set my son up 
to defy me? God’s curse is on the whole 
musical tribe. There ’s not one good one 
in the lot. They ’re all without honor; 
they break up homes. I ’m heart-broken to 
find you as bad as the rest,” he cried, sink- 
ing into a chair, and covering his eyes with 
his hands. 

Instantly Hilda was beside him, stirred 
to the soul thus to grieve her dear master. 


200 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


She timidly put her hand on his shoulder. 

‘‘I— I love you, Mr. Rossi. I— I did n’t 
mean to make you feel badly. ’ ’ 

He looked up at her eagerly. ‘‘If you 
did n’t mean it, promise me never to sing 
again. ’ ’ 

“She shan’t promise that,” interrupted 
Silvio. “God gave her the voice, and she 
must sing.” 

“God?” taunted Rossi springing to his 
feet, and towering theateningly above the 
two children. ‘ ‘ Music is of the Devil I tell 
you. I wish I had never laid eyes on you,” 
he added savagely to Hilda. 

“Do you want to get rid of me, Mr. 
Rossi?” she asked sadly. “If you say so, 
I— I ’ll go. I— I had an offer this after- 
noon. ’ ’ 

A sudden light broke in on Silvio. 

“That ’s what Hepp was offering you 
money for. He—” 

“Hepp?” repeated Rossi grasping Hilda 
by the shoulder, and peering into her eyes 
as if he would read her soul. 

“Yes, I heard him ask Hilda what she ’d 
take, ’ ’ continued Silvio. 


Bitter Memories 


201 


‘^Why didn’t you tell me of this, 
Hilda?” demanded Eossi harshly. 

‘H— I was afraid you might be so angry 
that you could n’t do good work together,” 
she murmured. ‘ ‘ Then I did n ’t Wcint you 
to think I was after more money.” 

‘‘He could n’t persuade you to leave me, 
Hilda?” 

“Of course not, Mr. Rossi.” 

Rossi’s anger vanished. Her faithful- 
ness stood out in beautiful contrast to the 
defection of Hepp and his wife. 

‘ ‘ Dear little Hilda, can you forgive me ? ” 
he cried holding out his arms to her. 

She sprang gladly toward him. ‘ ‘ There ’s 
nothing to forgive. ’ ’ 

“Thank God, there ’s one faithful soul in 
the world,” he murmured gently kissing 
her. “How much did Hepp oifer you?” 

‘ ‘ He said if I ’d promise to stay with him 
five years, he ’d pay me forty dollars and 
my board.” 

‘ ‘ The scheming wretch, ’ ’ muttered Rossi, 
again violently angry. “He knew that in 
five years, time, you ’d be worth very much 
more than that. Oh, money ’s his god! 


202 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Well, my child, you shall not lose by your 
honesty. I ’ll do much better by you than 
he if you ’ll stay with me. ’ ’ 

course. I’ll stay with you, Mr. 

Eossi. ’ ’ 

He nervously paced up and down the 
room. 

‘ ‘ Her word ’s to be trusted, ’ ’ he thought, 
^^but if she were not a minor I ’d bind her 
by contract. I ’ll write to her father. That 
’s the very thing. ’ ’ 

Hilda,” he said stopping in front of 
her, ’m going to write an agreement for 
your parents to sign before a lawyer. When 
it comes back to me, you will have to stay 
with me until you are of age. But to begin 
with, I ’ll pay you fifty dollars, and then 
raise your salary every six months. Will 
that satisfy you?” 

‘‘Oh, indeed it will, Mr. Eossi! Thank 
you ; thank you so very much ! ’ ’ 

“Well I ’ll go and have the paper drawn 
out immediately.” 

“Hilda!” cried Silvio when they were 
alone. He was appalled at the situation. 


Bitter Memories 


203 


^ ^ If Father gets that paper signed, it means 
that yon can never be a singer. ’ ’ 

don’t care,” answered Hilda happily. 
^ ‘ I think it ’s better for me to be an acrobat. 
Just think of all the money I can make.” 

Silvio was not satisfied, but he felt him- 
self helpless. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE LADY m THE STAGE BOX 

HAT night, before the per- 
formance, Hepp tried to 
patch up matters with 
Rossi. 

Rossi,” he began hum- 
bly, ‘‘Antoinette and I Ve 
talked over our atfairs and we Ve decided 
to sign if you wish. ’ ’ 

Rossi eyed him coldly. 

“After our present engagement is ended, 
I shall no longer need either of you. I ’m 
going to Italy this spring, and there I can 
get new people for much less than I ’m pay- 
ing you. As you so truly said last night 
I ’ll ‘not stand in your light.’ In a few 
weeks now, you ’ll be free for your better 
chance.” 

“But— but— ” stammered Hepp. 

‘ ‘ There ’s no more to be said, ’ ’ thundered 
Rossi. 



204 


The Lady in the Stage Box 


205 


That the discharge had finally been given 
eased Eossi’s resentment. 

Hepp nursed his wrath. He felt even 
more hitter against Hilda than against 
Eossi. 

‘‘It ’s all her fault/ ^ he complained to 
Antoinette, “if she were n’t such a fool our 
fortunes would he made. 

“Well, keep your feelings to yourself,” 
snapped Antoinette. “We ’ve got to win 
her someway.” 

“If we don’t, I ’ll manage to get even 
with her. ’ ’ 

Thereafter the two of them were so 
smiling outwardly that even Eossi was re- 
assured. 

“They don’t dare try any more devil- 
try,” he thought. 

While waiting for an answer from 
Hilda’s parents, Eossi was restless. After 
discovering her genius for song, he had an 
uneasy presentiment that something might 
happen to snatch her from him. 

“Music ’s the curse of my life,” he 
thought in agony of spirit. Since he had 
heard Hilda sing, the past haunted him day 


206 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


and night. Not only this, but he feared 
Silvio might leave, too. 

“They must stay with me,’’ he vowed. 

One afternoon when Rossi was detained 
at the theatre, Hilda met him at the door 
upon his return. 

“Here ’s the letter, Mr. Rossi.” 

He snatched it from her, and hastily 
broke it open. 

“Thank God,” he murmured, “they ’ve 
signed. Hilda, you ’re legally hound 
to me until you ’re of age. Nobody can take 
you from me,” and he drew her to him, 
kissing her as he would a daughter. Still 
keeping his arm around her, he led her 
toward the dining room. 

“Leonora! Silvio!” he called in ringing 
voice, “Hilda ’s to stay with us.” 

Leonora was visibly delighted. Silvio 
tried not to appear morose. 

“And I saw that Madame Von Arnim 
was coming back soon now,” he thought, 
‘ ‘ But even that will not help. ’ ’ 

A few days later as Hilda was on the way 
to her dressing room, she met Hepp. 

“Hilda,” he began looking around ap- 


The Lady in the Stage Box 


207 


prehensively to make sure that no one 
would overhear, ‘‘both my wife and myself 
have shown you how friendly we are. You 
must see that you can trust us. I ’ll do 
anything under the sun for you if you ’ll 
only go with us. ’ ’ 

“Mr. Hepp, it ’s useless your talking to 
me. My father and mother have signed a 
paper, and I ’m legally bound to stay with 
Mr. Eos si until I ’m of age.” 

He mumbled that fortunately Hilda did 
not hear. Then he hurried back to his wife. 

“It ’s of no use. She ’ll not go. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Then we ’ll skip. That offer was tele- 
graphed to you just in the nick of time. 
I’m glad that we ’re wanted at once. It ’s 
some consolation to leave Eossi in the 
lurch. ’ ’ 

Later, out on the stage, Hepp’s shifty 
eyes kept themselves fixed on Hilda. Her 
popularity enraged him anew. 

He was the last one to climb up the bars. 
He purposely planned it so. While the 
others were going on up, he steathily 
loosened a rope of the netting. 

‘ ‘ There, if I can only catch her off guard 


208 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


that may fix her,” and then he hastened 
after the others. No one but Antoinette 
noticed that he smiled cruelly. 

‘‘What mischief is he up to?” she won- 
dered, but there was no time to give the 
subject another thought. Her work came 
first on the program. Silvio and Hilda al- 
ways were reserved for the climax. 

When Hilda’s turn came, and she had 
started to swing herself down into Hepp’s 
hands, she chanced to glance below at the 
audience. Her eye strayed to the first right 
hand box. 

“That lady looks like Mrs. Mortimer!” 
and the very thought made her turn white. 
She felt herself trembling nervously. 

Hepp noticed, and smiled sardonically. 

“Now ’s my chance,” he said to him- 
self as the unheeding girl entrusted her- 
self to his mercy. 

Again Hilda gazed at the box. That in- 
stant, Hepp with less force than usual sent 
her out into the air. 

Hilda just missing Eossi, went tumbling 
downward. Instinctively she took pre- 
cautionary measures to save herself from 



210 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


hurt. But as she landed in the net it gave 
way, and poor Hilda was thrown violently 
to the floor below. 

A shudder went through the audience. 
Men hastily picked up Hilda and carried 
her into the wings. 

Silvio at the moment of the fall was up 
beside his father awaiting the great mo- 
ment when he and Hilda were to have been 
cast together. He started to rush pell-mell 
down the rope. Eossi caught hold of him 
and pulled him back. 

‘^Silvio,” he said and his voice trembled, 
‘‘we Ve got to go on as if nothing had hap^ 
pened. ^ ’ 

“Go onr’ Silvio faltered, “I— I can’t. 
Hilda may be killed. I must go to her.” 

‘ ‘ Silvio, we must do our duty. The public 
must not think anything serious has hap- 
pened.” 

Silvio never knew how he got through the 
next few minutes. The ordeal was a cruel 
one for Rossi and Leonora too, but with 
heroic fortitude they performed their parts 
to the end. 

“Did you intend that she should fall!” 


The Lady in the Stage Box 


211 


whispered Antoinette as she and her hus- 
band stood a moment alone. 

His eyes avoided hers. 

“My angel, how can you think such a 
thing of me. ’ ’ 

“I don’t think; I know,” she answered. 
And she smiled. 


CHAPTER XVn 


MRS. MORTIMER PLEADS 



^OW to account for the ap- 
pearance of Mrs. Mortimer 
in the box that afternoon. 
For Hilda had not been 
mistaken in thinking it was 
she. 

The police and detectives had been called 
to aid in the search for Hilda, but to no 
avail. The last anyone in Cleveland knew 
of her was the moment she had left her 
friends to board the car. Had it not been 
for the letters Hilda sent Mrs. Mortimer, 
the grief-stricken woman would have been 
frantic. Even with this proof that she was 
alive and well, it seemed as if the mystery 
of her whereabouts never would be solved. 

At this point, came Hilda’s debut and 
success. Soon after that her pictures ap- 
peared not only in the papers but maga- 
zines. One of them chanced to fall into 
Mrs. Mortimer’s hands. 

212 


Mrs. Mortimer Pleads 


213 


‘‘Hilda’s father was an acrobat,” she 
exclaimed, “and strange as it seems, this 
child must he my little Hilda.” 

She hurried to New York, in little doubt 
that her quest was nearly ended. 

“But I can’t do anything until I ’m per- 
fectly sure,” she decided. So she selected 
a box seat at the Hippodrome. 

One glance at Hilda assured Mrs. Mor- 
timer that her long lost girl was found. She 
could hardly wait for the end of the act, 
so anxious was she to claim Hilda. 

“But I must be cautious. Now that 
Hilda ’s famous, these people may not want 
to give her up,” she thought with a sud- 
den premonition, and pressed her handker- 
chief to her eyes. 

Then came the accident, and Mrs. Mor- 
timer threw caution to the winds. Her 
first impulse was to step from the box onto 
the stage. Instead she hurried to the box 
office. 

“I must go behind the scenes,” she cried. 

She explained the situation only briefly 
but she was so insistent, that she promptly 


214 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


was conducted back to Hilda, who was just 
coming to herself. 

I must go back,’^ cried Hilda strug- 
gling to her feet. Then her eyes fell upon 
Mrs. Mortimer. ‘‘Oh,’’ she gasped, “it 
was you!” 



“Hilda, are you hurt?” cried Mrs. Mor- 
timer, rushing to her and taking her in her 
arms. 

“I— I think I fainted. I struck my head, 
but I ’m going to be all right now.” 


Mrs. Mortimer Pleads 


215 


Thank God. I feared you might be 
killed.’’ 

Silvio, a little in advance of his father 
and sister, now hurried up. 

‘‘Hilda, you ’re alive! You ’re alive!” 
he cried rapturously. 

Rossi without a word took Hilda from 
Mrs. Mortimer’s arms, and carried her 
out before the audience. His first thought 
was to reassure them. 

At sight of Hilda, they began to applaud, 
and applauded even more vigorously than 
ever they had for her wonderful feats. 

Although she was sore and unnerved 
from her fall, she managed to smile and 
throw kisses in return. Never had she re- 
ceived a heartier ovation. 

“They really like me,” she thought. 

Rossi as he strode out with her hugged 
her close to him. 

“If you had been seriously hurt, I don’t 
know what I would have done. I can ’t think 
how that net gave away. I ’m always most 
particular. I ’ll have to look into this mat- 
ter,” he muttered as he set her down. 

Mrs. Mortimer joined them. 


216 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Hilda, just listen to them applauding 
out there still. It ’s a glorious end to your 
acrobatic career,’^ she said, putting her 
arm lovingly about the girl. 

“Who are you, madameT’ demanded 
Rossi forbiddingly. 

“I am Mrs. Mortimer. I ’ve come to 
claim Hilda.” 

“I have all legal right to Hilda, and I ’ll 
never give her up,” exclaimed the acrobat 
sternly. 

His look more than his words made Mrs. 
Mortimer realize how bitterly he would op- 
pose all her plans. 

“Oh, Hilda,” she cried, “why, why did 
you run away from me ? ’ ’ 

“Because you were so poor. Now I ’m 
going to make heaps of money and you can 
have it all.” 

Mrs. Mortimer could not keep back the 
tears. “You dear, dear child! I do not 
need money. I only want you.” 

“But are n’t you poor? The teachers 
said you were, ’ ’ faltered Hilda. 

“No, sweeheart, I ’m not as poor as they 
thought. I offered to give up every penny 


Mrs. Mortimer Pleads 


217 


I had to pay Mr. Mortimer ’s creditors, but 
the mines are already paying them back. 
A friend took hold of them, and it ’s been 
discovered that they are very valuable. I 
shall have plenty of money to make you a 
singer—” 

“Hilda shall never be a singer,” inter- 
rupted Eossi fiercely. 

“Can we not discuss this matter where 
it is quieter?” 

“It is utterly useless. I—” 

‘ ‘ But I ’m determined that you shall hear 
me. I will not be dismissed like this.” 
Rossi turned abruptly from her. She 
would have followed him if Silvio had not 
prevented. 

“Mrs. Mortimer,” he called softly. 
“You want Hilda to be a singer, and so do 
I. I ’ll dress at once and take you home 
with me. You can talk to father better 
there.” 

Mrs. Mortimer looked into his eager 
honest eyes, and was pleased with what 
she read there. 

“I believe I can trust you,” she replied. 

Thus it befell that when Eossi walked in- 


218 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


to his sitting room a little later he found 
Mrs. Mortimer and Silvio waiting for him. 

‘‘You, Madame?” he exclaimed harshly. 

She rose to plead with him. 

“I brought Hilda to this country, Mr. 
Rossi. I have a better right to her than 
you. I beg of you to let her go with me.” 

“Never!” 

“You are selfish, sir. You ought to 
think of her good. She— ’ ’ 

“ I do think of her good, ^ ’ declared Rossi 
savagely. “Acrobats, as a rule, grow up 
good people, but I ’d rather see Hilda dead 
than have her a singer. They ’re all bad, 
bad.” 

“No, indeed, they ’re not all bad,” Mrs. 
Mortimer answered with spirit. “I wish 
you knew Madame Yon Arnim. She—” 

“I ’ll not listen. I know what I ’m talk- 
ing about. Singers have no morality.” 

“Why are you so bitter Mr. Rossi?” 

Looking at his son he thought, “If I 
don’t answer, Silvio will always believe me 
harsh. I would better let him know the 
truth.” 

“Madame,” he answered “I ’ve cause 
enough, God knows, to be bitter. ’ ’ His eyes 


Mrs. Mortimer Pleads 


219 


grew dim and his iron will alone kept him 
from breaking down completely. ‘‘I— I 
adored this boy’s mother. I did everything 
in my power to make her happy, but she — ’ ’ 
^ ^ I did not mean to pry into your life, ’ ’ 
interrupted Mrs. Mortimer gently. 

“Father,” cried Silvio, “tell me about 
my mother ! Is she alive ? Where is she 1 ’ 
“She— she ran away from us, Silvio, my 
boy, when you were a baby. Her accursed 
voice was her ruin. She ran off with a 
singer in Florence. Now you know why I 
always fought your playing.” 

“But, Father, please, please don’t let 
this ruin Hilda’s life. If—” 

“Don’t argue with me, Silvio.” 

“Silvio is right, Mr. Eossi,” urged Mrs. 
Mortimer. “It will ruin Hilda’s life. I 
love her very dearly and — ’ ’ 

“Don’t you think I love her, too?” broke 
in Rossi. “If you could convince me that 
it was for her best interest to go with you, 
I’d let her go. But you can’t. As I have 
the law on my side, I ’ll keep her. ’ ’ 

After this, although Mrs. Mortimer used 
every argument, Rossi remained unmoved. 


220 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


have the paper to show my right to 
her, and I ’ll keep her,” he declared again 
and again. 

‘‘I shall not give np,” answered Mrs. 
Mortimer in desperation. ‘‘I shall consult 
a lawyer. ’ ’ 

^‘Consult a hundred lawyers,” growled 
Eossi. 

At this moment a special messenger ar- 
rived with a note for Eossi. 

‘‘You would n’t give us more money, and 
so we ’ve left,” Eossi read. “We had an 
offer providing we ’d go immediately. This 
may spoil your act at the Hippodrome, but 
the engagement is almost over anyway, and 
we ’ve got to look after our own interests. 
You would n’t keep us.” 

Eossi did not have to look at the sig- 
nature. 

“Hepp ’s a scoundrel,” he cried bitterly. 

“What ’s the matter, father?” 

“The Hepps have left us. I must go to 
the Hippodrome,” and he was off almost 
before they realized what had happened. 

“This may be a fortunate thing after 
all,” Eossi said to himself. “Probably I 


Mrs. Mortimer Pleads 


221 


can’t get anyone here to take their place, 
and in that case they ’ll have to engage an- 
other act at the Hippodrome. That will 
leave me free to whisk Hilda off to Italy 
at once.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE LITTLE KNIGHT 

HE following day Silvio 
went to call on Mrs. Mor- 
timer. 

‘‘Father’s going to en- 
gage passage on the first 
boat for Italy. They put 
another act on at the Hippodrome,” he 
broke out impetuously. “ So we must think 
of some way for Hilda to stay with you. I 
can’t bear the thought of parting from her, 
but she must be a singer. You can help 
her, can’t you?” 

Mrs. Mortimer shook her head helplessly. 
“I consulted a lawyer last night. He does 
n’t hold out much hope. But how is Hilda 
to-day?” 

“She ’s rather stiff, but she ’s much bet- 
ter than you ’d expect. I said to her, 
‘Hilda, it ’s a wonder you were n’t killed. 
I don’t see what saved you from death.’ 

222 



The Little Knight 


223 


She smiled back at me and answered. ‘I 
think God saved me.’ Father declares 
Hepp was to blame for her fall, but now 
he ’s gone and we never can prove it. But 
Mrs. Mortimer, what can we do for Hilda r ’ 

“ I ’m afraid nothing can be done. I am 
almost helpless.” 

Still Silvio would not give up, and day 
after day, he tried to think of a way for 
Hilda’s release. The first ray of hope came 
when he read that Madame Von Arnim 
was to sing at a Saturday matinee at the 
Metropolitan. 

‘ ‘ I must try to have a talk with her. Per- 
haps she can do something,” he said to 
himself. 

He told no one of his plan. On Saturday, 
however, he hurried to the Metropolitan, 
and walked around by the stage entrance. 

‘‘I never saw her except in opera, but 
I ’ll know her, ’ ’ he thought keeping mean- 
time an eager watch on the approaching 
carriages. 

At first he assured himself that his mis- 
sion must be successful, and he planned 
many romantic ways in which the famous 


224 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


singer was to aid Hilda. Slowly his en- 
thusiasm began to ebb. 

^‘It— it ’ll be awful to have Hilda leave. 
I must n’t let myself think how I ’ll miss 
her,” and he walked back and forth so 
rapidly that he could not have gone much 
faster on a wager. 

^^Why does n’t Madame Von Amim 
come,” he wondered impatiently. ‘‘Sup- 
pose she ’s lost interest in Hilda ! Actors 
forget easily and probably singers do, too. 
Well I ’ll just make Madame Von Amim 
listen to me. She must help Hilda.” 

This time as he turned, he saw a car- 
riage draw up at the curb. In another 
moment a lady stepped out on the sidewalk. 

Silvio’s heart beat unevenly but he 
stepped rapidly forward, hat in hand. 

“Madame, Madame Von Arnim, I must 
speak to you.” 

“ Ach, what a handsome boy,” said Mad- 
ame Von Arnim to herself, and added, 
“Why, who are you, my boy?” 

“I ’m Silvio, but it ’s about Hilda I must 
speak to you. ’ ’ 



226 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Hilda? Hilda?’’ repeated Madame Von 
Arnim. “Who is she?” 

“She ’s forgotten,” and Silvio’s heart 
sank. 

“Oh, yon must remember Hilda,” he ex- 
claimed looking at her with all his heart in 
his eyes. “She ’s the little girl who sang 
for you last autumn and you said she had 
a wonderful voice; that she ’d be a great 
singer some day. Don’t you remember 
Hilda now, Madame?” 

To Silvio’s joy her face lighted in glad 
recollection. 

“Do you mean Mrs. Mortimer’s Hilda?” 

“Yes, yes, but she ’s not with her now.” 

“So Mrs. Mortimer wrote me. I felt 
very sorry— very sorry indeed. But— 
what didj you say your name was— Silvio? 
—A poetical name that. Silvio, do you 
know where my little singing girl is?” 

“Yes, she ’s with us. Madame Von 
Arnim, she ’s in trouble. You must make 
father let her be a singer. You will, won’t 
you?” 

Even if Madame Von Arnim had not 


The Little Knight 


227 


been interested in Hilda, Silvio’s personal- 
ity would have won her to his cause. 

She smiled reassuringly. don’t un- 
derstand what you want of me, Silvio, and 
I ’ve no time to learn now. But if you will 
wait until after the opera I ’d like to help 
you if lean.” 

With gallantry learned from his courtly 
old grandfather, Silvio seized her hand, and 
pressed it to his lips. 

‘‘You ’re so good, Madame, so very 
good, ’ ’ he murmured. His heart was com- 
pletely won and his hopes were high. 

“Father can’t help seeing she ’s a good 
woman. She ’ll win him surely. ’ ’ 

On her side Madame Von Arnim liked 
Silvio more than ever. 

“He ’s a perfect little knight,” and in 
her mind she dubbed him Sir Silvio. 

“Silvio,” she asked, “would you like to 
hear me sing this afternoon! If you would 
I ’ll send some one around to pass you in- 
side. ’ ’ 

He blushed. “Oh thank you, thank you 
so much, Madame, but—” 


228 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Possibly you don’t care for music?” 
she interrupted. 

“Not care for music?” repeated her lit- 
tle knight his eyes shining, “I adore music. 
I heard you sing one afternoon, Madame, 
and your voice was heavenly. I ’d love to 
hear you, hut— ’ ’ 

“Not another word, Silvio,” and she 
was gone before he knew what she intended. 

“I did n’t want her to think I was look- 
ing for a free ticket,” he said. 

A few moments later a man came for 
Silvio. 

“Not many singers would take so much 
trouble for a strange boy,” he thought 
while the man was conducting him to the 
front of the house. “Of course she did 
it for Hilda. Still I hope she likes me, too. 
I love her.’^ 

When they were inside, the man led him 
to one of the best boxes in the house. 

“But— but I ’m not to sit here?” stam- 
mered Silvio. 

“Yes, you are. Madame Von Amim 
saved this box for her daughter, and she 
says that you are to sit here with her. 


The Little Knight 


229 


She ’ll send for you both after the per- 
formance. Go in and take a front seat.” 

‘‘Oh, if Hilda were only here,” Silvio 
sighed as he seated himself. 

He glanced far above where Hilda and he 
had sat on another afternoon and all their 
fond hopes of a musical career revived with- 
in him. 

“Yes, if Hilda ’s a singer, I ’ll be a vio- 
linist,” he decided again, and the painful 
thought of losing her was conquered by this 
resolution. 

At this moment, a dark, eager-eyed girl 
swept into the box. At sight of a stranger, 
she hesitated for an instant then started to 
seat herself directly behind Silvio. 

“Please sit here in front,” he said, 
rising. 

“Don’t move,” she answered graciously. 
“I ’ll sit beside you,” and she took the 
chair next to his. 

Silvio felt a little bashful, but he had 
eyes for the fact that the girl was very at- 
tractive and that she was dressed in red, 
and wore a large picture hat which made 
the glowing face below more beautiful. 


230 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Why I know who you are,’’ she ex* 
claimed, having returned his scrutiny. 
“Are n’t you with the Rossi troupe at the 
Hippodrome?” 

“Yes, I ’m Silvio Rossi,” he answered 
shyly. 

“I’m so glad to meet you. I ’m Frieda 
Von Arnim. I go to a hoarding-school here 
in New York, and all the girls are wild over 
you and your father and the little girl with 
you,” confided Frieda. 

“That’s Hilda. Your mother has prom- 
ised to help me about Hilda. That ’s why 
I ’m here.” 

“My mother?” repeated Frieda won- 
deringly. “Please tell me more about 
Hilda.” 

But the curtain rose. “We ’ll have to 
wait until between acts,” whispered 
Frieda. 

At Madame Von Arnim ’s entrance, 
Silvio was so excited that without thinking, 
he sprang to his feet and clapped so long 
and so vigorously that his hands smarted, 
hardened though they were by exercise. 

Madame Von Arnim turned and smiled 


The Little Knight 


231 


at Frieda. Then Silvio attracted her at- 
tention. 

‘‘My little knight is enthusiastic,” she 
thought, bowing directly to him, and that 
made him the proudest boy in all New York. 

“What will Hilda say to that I wonder?” 
he thought, his face radiant with joy. 

In all that vast audience, he was Madame 
Von Arnim’s most rapturous listener. He 
would have liked to shower roses and 
jewels at her feet. 

“Your mother is the most wonderful per- 
son in the world,” he exclaimed at the end 
of the act. 

“Oh she ^s just a singer,” answered 
Frieda indifferently. “I think it more won- 
derful to be a fine acrobat like you.” 

“More wonderful to be an acrobat!” 
gasped Silvio. 

“Yes, indeed. Mother and father want 
me to be a singer, but I ’d much rather be 
an acrobat like you. When I was a little 
girl, I went to the circus. Then my am- 
bition was to be a bareback rider, but what 
you do is much fibaei* than that. ’ ’ 


232 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘ ‘ Oh, no, it ’s not. I ’d a hundred times 
rather sing, like your mother. ’ ’ 

Frieda laughed. ^‘You think of my 
mother just as I do of your father. He ’s 
the most marvelous man I ever saw. I Ve 
been to see you all time and again. My, 
but won’t the girls at school be envious 
when I tell them about meeting you! We 
try to do some of the things you do, but we 
don’t succeed very well. But I want to 
hear about Hilda. You promised to tell 
me about her.” 

So Silvio started to repeat Hilda’s his- 
tory. 

‘ ^ I remember that mother gave me a doll 
last Fall that was named Hilda,” inter- 
rupted Frieda. was very much inter- 
ested in the little singing girl then, and is 
n’t it strange that I should be hearing about 
her from you?” 

Thereafter they spent every minute be- 
tween acts in talking about Hilda. 

‘ H should n’t think she ’d want to give up 
being an acrobat,” exclaimed Frieda. 
‘^You ’re very fond of Hilda, are n’t you, 
Silvio?” 


The Little Knight 


233 


He nodded his head. 

^‘Why do yon want her to he a singer 
then, and leave yon T ’ 

‘ ^ Becanse her voice is so wonderfnl. ^ ’ 

‘‘Well I don’t see how she can want to 
leave yon and Mr. Eos si. Still if both yon 
and she wish it, I snppose it mnst be ar- 
ranged. I shall go with yon and mother to 
talk to Mr. Eossi. I ’m dying to meet him 
anyway. ’ ’ 

Thns it was that when Madame Von 
Arnim finally came ont to her carriage, she 
fonnd Frieda in a very excited state of 
mind. 

“Mother,” she exclaimed,” we mnst 
drive immediately aronnd to see Hilda. 
I Ve heard all abont her from Silvio, and 
we mnst help her be a singer. ’ ’ 

“Frieda,” Madame Von Arnim replied 
as she stepped into the carriage, “I think 
perhaps we ’d better drop yon at yonr 
school and—” 

“No indeed. Mother. I ’m going with 
yon and Silvio.” 

Madame Von Arnim smiled at her im- 


234 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


petuosity. ‘‘And pray where are we all 

goingr’ 

Frieda turned to Silvio. “Tell the 
driver where you live. Have him take us 
there. ’ ^ 

* “I seem to have no voice in the matter/' 
but Madame Von Arnim did not appear dis- 
pleased. 

“Shall I do as she says Madame T' 

“I suppose so, Silvio. I spoil her ter- 
ribly. ’ ' 

“Now,’’ said Madame Von Amim after 
the directions had been given, “would 
you mind telling me what I am expected to 
dor' 

“Madame, I do so want you to help 
Hilda be a singer. I’ll tell you all about 
her gift now, and you ’ll help her, won’t 
you?” 

“Yes, Silvio. You are a singer, yourself, 
I suppose.” 

“No, Madame, I— I—” 

“He ’s Silvio Eossi, the acrobat, 
mother.’' 

“An acrobat?” thought Madame Von 
Amim with disappointment. “If there 's 


The Little Knight 


235 


anything in a face, that boy has missed his 
vocation.” 

Silvio’s profession put a different phase 
on Frieda’s going with them. 

‘ ‘ She has too many foolish notions about 
acrobats in her head already,” Madame 
Von Arnim said to herself. 

Meantime Silvio had begun telling 
Hilda’s story, and Madame Van Arnim 
quickly grew so interested that she decided 
to let Frieda stay. 

‘‘Frieda ’s too sensible about most things 
to have her head turned by this experience. 
And she ’s so interested that if I sent her 
away now she ’d never forgive me,” wisely 
thought Madame Von Arnim, “and too, 
she may be of some help in outwitting Mr. 
Eossi. Law or no law, he must do as we 
all wish about Hilda.” 


CHAPTER XIX 

JUST A SONG AT TWILIGHT 

OMETHING had been on 
Hilda’s mind for a long 
time. She had come into 
the sitting room where Mr. 
Rossi was fully intending 
to speak to him about it, 
hut her courage failing, she had seated 
herself on the lounge. There she fell to 
thinking of Mrs. Mortimer. 

^‘What makes you so quiet, Hilda?” 
asked Rossi, sitting down beside her. 

Hilda tried to brush a tear from her face 
without his seeing. 

‘‘Why Hilda, you ’re crying. WTiat ’s 
the trouble?” 

“It ’s because I ’ll not see much of Mrs. 
[Mortimer before—” The thought of the 
separation was too much for Hilda and 
she broke down completely. 

Rossi was genuinely distressed. Hilda 
236 



Just a Song at Twilight 


237 


had never let him see before how much 
Mrs. Mortimer really meant to her. 

‘‘Don’t cry, dear,” he said gently. His 
conscience accused him. 

“They love each other, and I took her 
away wrongfully.” 

Self-justification retaliated, “Yes, hut 
I have been good to her. I have as much 
right to her now as Mrs. Mortimer has; 
more, for not only the law, but her good, 
demands that she stay with me. ’ ’ 

To Hilda he said, “My dear, you know I 
love you and that I would n’t do anything 
I did n’t believe was for your good. You 
do believe that, don’t you?” 

“Yes, Mr. Rossi,” she sobbed. 

“Then you should n’t cry and feel 
badly.” 

I can’t help it, Mr. Rossi. I love 
you, but Mrs. Mortimer needs me. I should 
n’t have left her. She ’s all alone in the 
world. Only think, her baby died, and just 
as I was beginning to be a comfort, I— I 
ran away. I wish you would let me go back 
to her.” She put out her hand timidly to 
him. He took it and pressed it. His grip, 


238 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


that was usually like iron, was now gentle 
as a woman’s. He drew her closer. 

“Hilda, I can’t give you up now. I need 
you and I can’t bear to have you unhappy. 
So please stop crying.” 

“I ’ll stop, Mr. Rossi. I— I ’ll do just as 
you say about everything. ’ ’ 

Her patience and her desire to please, 
touched him deeply. He bent over and 
kissed her. 

“You are as dear to me as an own child, ’ ’ 
he murmured. “I ’ll try to make you glad 
to stay with me. ’ ’ 

“If it were n’t for Mrs. Mortimer and 

♦ 

singing, I ’d be happy to stay.” 

At her mention of singing, Rossi’s face 
darkened, but in the gathering twilight 
Hilda did not catch his expression. 

“Mr. Rossi, before you decide to keep 
me, I ought to tell you something. I came 
in here to speak about it, but I was afraid 
you would n’t like it.” 

She spoke so seriously that he looked up 
startled. 

“What ’s the matter, Hilda?” 


Just a Song at Twilight 


239 


‘‘My clothes are getting too small for 

me.’’ 

Rossi smiled. “Why does n’t Leonora 
buy you some new ones?” 

“It— it ’s not that. I ’m growing fast 
and you ’ll not like that, but I can’t help 
it. If I ’m large, you won’t have any more 
use for me. Leonora says it ’s because 
this country is doing me good and that I 
may shoot up all of a sudden.” 

This news was unpleasant to Rossi, but 
he loved honest Hilda more than ever. 

“No matter, dear. I ’ll always have a 
place for you. Little or big, you stay with 
me just the same.” 

The outer door rattled, and a moment 
afterwards Silvio, with Madame Von 
'Arnim and Frieda, came into the sitting 
room. 

Hilda sprang to her feet. She feared 
that she must be dreaming. 

“Madame Von Arnim,” she gasped, and 
trembling from her wondrous delight, she 
flew to her and was folded in a motherly em- 
brace. 


240 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Who can these people be” wondered 
Rossi, and started to withdraw. 

He had not reached the middle of the 
room when Silvio caught him by the hand. 

“Father, don’t go. This young lady is 
most anxious to meet you.” 

“Anxious to meet me?” repeated Rossi 
in surprise. 

“Yes, Father. This is Miss Frieda Von 
Arnim.” 

The name did not enlighten Rossi. He 
automatically extended his hand. 

“Mr. Rossi, meeting you is a great hap- 
piness. I ’d give anything to be a great 
acrobat like you. There are lots of ques- 
tions I want to ask you,” and she pressed 
his hand cordially. 

Though she spoke in rather stilted, 
school-girl fashion, she was so evidently 
sincere in her admiration that Rossi was 
pleased. 

“I ’ll be glad to answer them if I can.” 

Madame Von Amim turned a smiling 
face upon him. 

“You are Frieda’s hero, Mr. Rossi. I ’ve 


Just a Song at Twilight 


241 


heard her talk so much about you that I 
feel as if we already were acquainted.’’ 

The situation was still a mystery to him. 
He had no idea that a singer was in the 
room with him. If he had, he would not 
have stayed. Ais it was, Madame Von 
Arnim began to talk to him with great tact. 
She knew how to draw out the best side 
of his nature, and he said to himself. 

Whoever she is, she ’s a wonderful 
woman. ’ ’ 

Meanwhile Hilda and Frieda were be- 
coming acqainted. Fortunately Frieda 
could speak French and was not in the least 
embarrassed, so that Hilda was immedi- 
ately placed at her ease. 

Would you really and truly rather be 
a singer, Hilda?” asked Frieda. ‘^Silvio 
said so, but it does n’t seem possible. If 
I were in your place, I ’d rather be with Mr. 
Eossi and Silvio.” 

Silvio standing beside the two girls 
waited anxiously for Hilda’s reply. 

‘Hf it were n’t for Mrs. Mortimer, I 
would n’t want to leave them — not even to 
be a singer,” she answered softly. 


242 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Silvio leaned over and gave her hand a 
quick squeeze. Hilda,’’ he whispered, 
‘‘Madame Von Amim has promised to 
help you. ’ ’ 

“What ’s she going to do?” 

Silvio could not answer. Just then Mad- 
ame Von Arnim herself could not have 
given a satisfactory reply. She was try- 
ing to reach the soft spot in Bossi’s heart 
but thus far she had failed to find it. 

“I shall have to wait,” she decided. 
‘ ‘ Perhaps fate will help me. ’ ’ 

“Mr. Eossi,” she said, “I want your ad- 
vice about my daughter. Frieda has a fool- 
ish notion that she wants to be an acrobat, 
but she is fitted to follow in my footsteps.” 

“To follow in your footsteps?” 

‘ ‘ Why yes, did n ’t you know ? I ’m Mad- 
ame Von Arnim, the singer.” 

“You, a singer?” 

“You say that as if it were something 
very bad. But really Mr. Eossi, I ’m just 
like other women. I ’m a wife and mother 
first of all. My husband and my children 
are my dearest treasures.” She went on 
to speak of her home life. Her personality 


Just a Song at Twilight 


243 


impressed him more and more favorably 
and he saw that here at last was one home- 
loving singer. 

Finally he said, ‘‘I— I ’ve thought for 
years that people of your profession— pray 
do not be oif ended, Madame. I ’m just say- 
ing it for enlightment— I Ve thought that 
most of them were abandoned creatures. 
You ^re the first good singer I ever met.’’ 

‘ ‘ Mr. Eossi, in my calling as in all others, 
there are some bad people— the trouble is 
that we are emotional, and some let their 
hearts run away with their heads. But 
with right influence, I believe that to be a 
singer is the happiest fate in the world. I 
find new joy in my work every day of my 
life.” 

‘‘Mother are n’t you going to let me talk 
to Mr. Eossi at all T ’ asked Frieda coming 
up to them. 

“Why, certainly, dear. I want a visit 
with Hilda anyway,” and Madame Von 
Amim withdrew to the couch. 

“Oh, Mr. Eossi, there are so many ques- 
tions I want to ask you. Let ’s sit over 
here by the window please?” 


244 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


’ll light up first.” 

Don’t let ’s have lights. It ’s cosier 
without.” 

^‘But perhaps your mother would rather 
have them.” 

^‘Mother,” called Frieda, ‘‘you don’t 
care for lights, do you ? ’ * 

“No, indeed.” 

‘ ‘ Madame Von Arnim, ’ ’ exclaimed Hilda, 
“I ’ll never forget how good you were to 
me the night of the concert. I Ve often 
told Silvio about your singing for me.” 

“Have you forgotten the song I taught 
you, Hilda?” 

“Ah, no, Madame. I ’ve sung it many 
times for Silvio !” 

“I ’d like to hear you sing it for me now, 
liebling. ’ ’ 

Hilda hesitated. 

“Mr. Eossi would n’t like it,” she fal- 
tered. 

“Why not?” 

Silvio sank down on the couch on the 
other side of Madame Von Arnim. 

“My father is bitter, Madame, because 
my mother left us when I was a baby. 


Just a Song at Twilight 


245 


Leonora says that before she ran away, 
father used to love music, she confided in 
low tones. 

‘‘Ah!” exclaimed Madame Von Arnim 
letting his words sink into her mind. She 
divined that if Eossi would listen to music, 
it might conquer his bitterness. 

“Hilda,” she whispered, “go to Mr. 
Rossi, and tell him that I ’ve asked you 
to sing. Put your arms about his neck and 
beg him to let you. Gain his permission 
someway, and after he has said yes, tell 
him that I ask him) as a personal favor to 
wait here as there is something that I spe- 
cially wish to see him about. If you do ex- 
actly as I say, I ’ll sing for you also.” 

“I ’d do anything to hear you sing again, 
and I ’ll try my best with Mr. Eossi,” an- 
swered Hilda, rising. 

“Tell Frieda I wish to speak to her. 

In another moment Frieda was standing 
beside her mother. 

“Frieda,” whispered Madame Von 
Amim, “Hilda and I are going to have 
some singing here in the dark. Stand be- 
side Mr. Eossi, but after the very first, 


246 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


don’t talk to him. He may be affected— he 
might even break down and sob. I pray 
God that he may. If he does, you keep 
silent. But if he should start to leave, de- 
tain him someway. He must not go. ’ ’ 
Meanwhile Hilda had whispered her 
request as Madame Von Amim had di- 
rected. 

’ll not have any such foolishness,” he 
muttered impatiently. 

‘‘Mr. Rossi, don’t say no. You know I ’m 
going away with you, and Madame Von 
Arnim and I cannot sing together again, at 
least not for years. Please, please let us 
do as she wishes.” 

He rose hurriedly. “You can sing, but 
I ’ll leave the house. ’ ’ 

Hilda clung to his hand. ‘ ‘ Then we can’t 
sing, for it would n’t be polite to our guests. 
Madame Von Arnim asked specially to 
have you stay. She wants to talk to you. 
Please, please stay and let us sing. It 
means so very, very much to me. You— 
you know how badly I feel about Mrs. Mor- 
timer. When I ’m sad about her, it ’ll give 
me something else to think about. ’ ’ 


Just a Song at Twilight 


247 


Rossi felt as if he were caught in a trap 
—and Hilda’s touching eagerness con- 
quered. 

‘‘I need n’t listen,” he muttered under 
his breadth, ’ll hold my hands over my 
ears. ’ ’ 

‘‘It’s foolishness,” he said to the child, 
“but— well hurry and get done with it. I ’d 
not be so weak if I had n’t promised to try 
to make you happy.” 

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, 
Mr. Rossi,” she answered, showering 
kisses on his hand. He snatched it away, 
and sank down in his chair. She looked 
wistfully at him a moment, but he kept his 
face persistently turned away. Both awed 
and happy at his reluctant consent, she re- 
joined Madame Von Arnim. 

“He ’ll let us sing, hut he does n’t like 
it,” she said. 

Madame Von Arnim gave a gratified nod. 

“Sit down beside me, Hilda, and begin.” 

Frieda walked softly back to Rossi. He 
had his hands over his ears, and his at- 
titude was tense with pain. 


248 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘^Mr. Rossi, I Ve come back. I love to 
talk to you.^’ 

He did not stir. 

“Mr. Rossi,’’ she repeated, louder. 

Still he did not heed. 

^‘He ’ll not listen” thought Frieda de- 
spairingly. She was so perplexed as to how 
to arouse the man with the bowed head 
that she had no ears for the fresh, young 
voice now flooding the room with sweet 
melody. 

Frieda timidly drew closer. 

‘‘Mr. Rossi,” she called for the third 
time. 

He neither stirred nor spoke. 

In desperation she caught the hand near- 
est her, and drew it away from his ear. 

“He can’t help hearing now,” she 
thought. 

“What do you want!” he demanded an- 
grily. 

“You— you were tellfng me about flip- 
flaps.” 

“Eh?—” He looked at her in bewilder- 
ment, and then laughed wildly. “A flip- 


I 




250 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


flap ? Yes, yes. Well we fll talk. We ’ll 
not listen. We don’t want music. ’ ’ 

Then he talked so fast that Frieda feared 
she was not keeping faith with her mother. 

‘‘But he can’t help hearing some of it 
anyway,” she decided. 

She was right. In spite of himself, the 
beauty of Hilda’s singing enveloped and 
subdued him. His tone grew softer and at 
last he was silent. Frieda watched him 
anxiously. 

‘ ‘ What will he do next ? ’ ’ 

The singing was having its effect. It 
made Rossi think of his wife with yearn- 
ing and pity. 

“Oh, my God, why did she leave me?” 
he sobbed to himself. 

It was as if a band about his heart were 
snapping, in one last, desperate effort not 
to be weak, he started to rise. 

Instantly Frieda thrust her hand into 
his. He would have pushed her aside, but 
she would not be repelled. She slipped both 
her arms around his neck. 

“Dear Mr. Rossi, don’t go. I ’m very, 
very sorry that you feel badly.” 


Just a Song at Twilight 


251 


Her sympathy proved the last wedge. 
With a moan, he sank back in his chair, and 
the tears streamed down his careworn face. 

Frieda felt that her mission was fulfilled. 
Still she waited beside him. 

Then Rossi heard another voice, deeper, 
richer, fuller; not more marvelous, per- 
haps, than the child’s, but this one sounded 
the deeps of human experience and reached 
the innermost recesses of the soul. For the 
first time in his life Rossi judged his own 
short-comings as an angel might. 

’m to blame. I ’m hard with every- 
body. Silvio does not love me as I might 
make him. Hilda, if she were not so loving, 
would hate me. Mrs. Mortimer would know 
better than I how to care for her, but I can’t 
give Hilda up. I love her. I love her. ’ ’ 
Instinctively Madame Von Arnim had 
selected the tender melodies that would 
touch his heart, and in them the beauty, the 
nobility and the pathos of her wonderful 
voice were expressed to the full. Never 
had she put more feeling into her songs, for 
she was striving to redeem a man from his 


252 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


own selfishness, and so dedicate Hilda to 
the art of song. 

Frieda ^s gentle influence again proved 
helpful. While she said no further word, 
she leaned close beside Eossi and sooth- 
ingly stroked his head. With the loving 
girl ministering to him, the contrite man 
felt himself not altogether hard and cold. 

Intuition told Madame Von Amim the 
psychical moment at which to cease. 

Hilda,’’ she whispered, ‘‘can’t you and 
Silvio take Frieda to another room? I want 
to talk to Mr. Rossi alone.” 

So the three children withdrew. 

“Mr. Rossi,” said Madame Von Amim 
gently. 

He sprang to his feet. 

“Why did you come here to torment me 
with your voice. I hate music. ’ ’ 

“ISTo, no, Mr. Rossi. I know better. If 
you did not love music, it would have no 
power to move you as it does. Music is di- 
vine. It takes away the dross, and leaves 
only the pure ^old. You have passed 
through the fire in the last few moments, 


Just a Song at Twilight 


253 


and now you are ready to give up Hilda. ^ ’ 

^‘Give up Hilda?’’ he faltered weakly. 

*‘Yes, Mr. Eossi. Hilda is divinely 
gifted, and it would he going against God’s 
will to keep her from singing. You are too 
good a man to wreck her future, and it will 
be wrecking her future to keep her with 
you. As an acrobat, she can only divert 
people. As a singer, she can speak to their 
souls. You know that this is true. If you 
love her, you will let her stay with Mrs. 
Mortimer. Send for her now, and tell her 
that she can stay.” 

can’t, I love her too much,” he 
moaned. 

‘ ^ It ’s because you love her that you will 
let her go. Oh, Mr. Eossi, believe me sing- 
ers are not had. They have a great mis- 
sion in the world. Hilda, with that voice 
of hers, with its marvelous purity and 
sweetness, is bound to he a power for good. 
You must not deprive the world of that 
voice. You want to do what is right. 
You must tear up that contract with her 
parents. Mrs. Mortimer has a better right 
to Hilda than you have. 


254 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘I might do what you ask, but for one 
reason,’^ he answered slowly, and added, 
Hilda leaves, Silvio will want to be a 
musician. ’ ^ 

musician?^’ 

‘‘Yes, he has a fool notion of scraping 
away on a violin.’’ 

Perhaps if Madame Von Arnim had not 
been so bent on gaining her point, or if 
she had realized that Silvio, in his way, 
was fully as gifted as Hilda, she would 
have hesitated. As it was, she hurried to 
the door. 

“Silvio,” she cried, “Silvio come here.” 

While waiting for Silvio, Eossi struck a 
match, and the room was flooded with light. 
Madame Von Arnim felt that it was sym- 
bolic of the future awaiting Hilda. She 
had no doubt now of a complete victory. 

“Silvio,” she exclaimed as he entered, 
“Hilda ’s to stay with Mrs. Mortimer.” 

“ Oh I ’m so glad, ’ ’ said the boy, but the 
tears rose to his eyes. 

“I have n’t consented for sure,” grum- 
bled Eossi. “Her going depends a good 
deal on you. ’ ’ 


Just a Song at Twilight 


255 


me, Father?’^ 

‘‘Yes, if you ’ll promise never to play 
again, I ’ll tear up my contract and Hilda 
is free to do as she likes.” 

Madame Von Arnim was surprised to 
note the appalled look on Silvio’s face at 
these words. “But he ’ll not mind long,” 
she reassured herself. 

“I can’t promise that. I can’t do it. 
Father.” 

The hard expression was returning to 
Eossi’s face. He was repenting of his 
leniency. 

“Then Hilda’s got to stay with us. 
That ’s my last word on the subject,” he 
declared firmly. 

“Silvio, you must promise,” whispered 
Madame Von Arnim. 

“Is n’t there any other way, Madame?” 
he moaned. 

His evident misery made her hesitate. 

“I knew by his face that he was 
musical,” she thought. “Perhaps I ’m 
doing him an injustice. I ought to know 
more about him before I urge him, but 
Hilda must be a singer.” 


256 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘^Oh, think of some other way, Mad- 
ame. ^ ’ 

She laid her hand gently on his shoulder, 
fear it ’s the only way, Silvio.’’ 

So great a lump rose in his throat that 
he tried to speak once or twice before he 
succeeded in forcing any word from his 
pale lips. 

I” he finally stammered, hysteric- 
ally inclined to tears. By a supreme effort, 
he calmed himself, and added quite firmly, 

Hilda must go. I— I ’ll never play again, 
Father. ’ ’ 

^‘You are a noble boy, Silvio,” but, if 
Madame Von Arnim had realized the real 
situation, instead of praising him, she 
would have cried to him to retract his 
promise. 

Kossi knew only too well the greatness 
of the sacrifice, and he felt that the price 
he was paying was none too large. So he 
hurried to his desk, and unlocked the 
drawer where he kept the treasured con- 
tract. 

‘^Now Silvio,” he commanded, facing 
his son, ‘ ‘ bring me your violin. ’ ’ 

The boy recoiled from his father. 


Just a Song at Twilight 


257 


Don’t make me give give np, don’t. 
Please don’t.” 

^‘But you’ve promised never to play 
again,” interposed Eossi sternly. 

I know, but I can’t give up my vio- 
lin. You did n’t ask that of me.” 

Eossi ’s piercing eyes dwelt qp Ms son 
as if be would read him through and 
through. Silvio met his look unfalteringly. 
He had given his word, and meant to keep 
it. 

ought to break that violin to pieces, 
but— well keep it. Only Silvio, if I ever 
catch you playing it, beware.” 

Then with his heart almost as hard as it 
had been before the singing, Eossi called 
sternly : 

Hilda, come here.” 

‘‘She must n’t know what I ’ve promised. 
It would make her very unhappy and then, 
too, she might not go,” cried Silvio. 

Again Ms nobility impressed Madame 
Von Arnim. 

“I ’m proud to know a boy like you, 
Silvio,’’ she whispered. 


258 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


I say nothing to her, I can surely 
trust youT’ questioned Rossi. 

‘‘Father, you know you can. You never 
knew me to break my word.’’ 

As Hilda entered, Rossi tore the paper 
into shreds. 

“Hilda, you ’re free to go,” he cried bit- 
terly. 

“Free, Mr. Rossi'?” 

“Yes, yes, and you must go to-night. 
Madame Von Arnim can take you to Mrs. 
Mortimer. Leonora will pack your things 
and send them to you to-morrow.” 

“Oh, Father, can’t she stay with us until 
WQ sail?” pleaded Silvio. 

“No, she either goes to-night or not at 
all. Good bye, Hilda,” and without wait- 
ing for a word from her, Rossi rushed out 
of the house. 

Hilda and Silvio were stunned. To part 
so suddenly was unbearable. 

“It ’s not your last good bye,” consoled 
Madame Von Arnim. “I ’m sure Mrs. 
Mortimer will wait in New York awhile. 
We ’ll all be down to the boat to see you off, 
Silvio. So Hilda, we must be going now.” 


Just a Song at Twilight 


259 


^ ‘ Then I ’m really to go to-night ? ’ ’ Hilda 
faltered. 

^‘Yes, it is best.’’ 

^‘Oh Silvio,” cried Hilda. did n’t 
know how hard it would be to leave you.” 

He could not answer. His despair was 
too deep for words. 

Breaking the news to Leonora was hard, 
too. Both she and Hilda cried bitterly. 
Silvio, alone, appeared unmoved. Not 
once in the short time before Hilda de- 
parted did he give the least expression to 
his feelings. 

At the outer door, Hilda looked wistfully 
back at him. 

‘Ht ’s not so bad after all,” she said. 
^^Our dream ’s coming true. I ’m to be a 
singer, and you ’ll be a wonderful violinist 
some day. You know you promised.” 

He managed to keep control of himself 
until she was no longer in sight. Then 
with a heart-breaking moan, he pushed by 
Leonora who wished to console him, rushed 
to his own room, and locked himself in. 

The first object his eyes fell upon was 


260 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


the violin that he had given his word never 
to play. 

That nnnerved him completely. 

‘‘What would Hilda do if she knewf’^ 
he sobbed, bnt he would have made the sac- 
rifice over again for her. 


CHAPTER XX 

THE BROKEN" VIOLIN 

N the day lie was to sail, 
Silvio wakened very early. 

‘‘I can never play 
again,’’ was his first 
thought, and there seemed 
little left in life. 

At the breakfast table, Rossi said he was 
going out to attend to a few last errands. 

^ ‘ They ’re to come for the trunks at ten, 
so be sure to have them ready,” he cau- 
tioned before leaving. 

Silvio went to his room. Everything of 
his was packed except the violin. That he 
purposely had left until the last. 

‘Hf it would n’t make father angry I ’d 
carry it by hand,” he thought, taking it up 
and eyeing it lovingly. Merely to touch 
it comforted him. 

He closed the lid of his trunk, and sat 
down on the edge of it. His violin and bow 
were in his hands now. 

261 




262 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


’ll not play,” he assured himself. 
‘^What will Grandfather say when he 
knows what I Ve promised?” 

Pictures of long gone scenes of his life 
in Florence crowded upon his mind. He 
saw himself again a little violin-playing 
boy. His eyes grew dreamy, and beautiful 
sounds demanding expression, haunted 
him. He drew his bow half-way across the 
strings ; then conscience revived in him for 
a moment. 

must n’t play,” he warned himself, 
but he still clung to the instrument. 

Presently the sounds grew more clearly 
defined. Everything but the love of music 
fled from Silvio’s mind. Without any in- 
tention of breaking his word ; without 
knowledge that he was doing so, he began 
to play, entirely possessed by his passion. 

The first notes were so soft that they did 
not startle him from his reverie, and when 
they swelled out in full volume, he did not 
waken to what he was doing. 

Leonora, busy with her packing in the 
rear of the apartment, was startled by the 
music, but she had no thought of stopping 
him. 


The Broken Violin 


263 


^^Even if Father does n’t want him to 
play, it will do Silvio good,” she said to 
herself. ‘‘He loves music, and he plays 
beautifully. I wish Father ’d let him be a 
musician. I ’m getting tired of the stage. 
I ’d like to settle down and keep house for 
Silvio and Father. Would n’t it be lovely 
to have a home of our very own,’* and 
Leonora sighed. 

New melodies kept floating though 
Silvio’s head. He played on and on, per- 
fectly oblivious to everything but music. 
Neither he nor Leonora heard the outside 
door open. 

“Silvio!” 

With a guilty start, Silvio looked up and 
beheld his father standing in the doorway. 

“You ’ve broken your word,” thundered 
Eossi. 

“I— I forgot.” 

His faltering, penitent voice only in- 
furiated Eossi the more. He swooped down 
on Silvio; snatched the violin, and before 
the boy divined his intention, swung it 
above his head. The next instant he struck 
it violently against the far end of the trunk, 


264 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


and the delicate wood shivered into many 
pieces. 

What have you doneT’ screamed Silvio 
springing to his feet. His eyes glared like 
the eyes of one crazed. ‘‘Oh, my violin ’s 
broken,’’ he sobbed pressing his hands 
against his throbbing temples. 

“I ’ll teach you not to break your word 
to me.” 

Silvio stooped and gathered up some of 
the fragments. 

“You might better have killed me, 
Father, ’ ’ he moaned. ‘ ‘ I wish I were dead. ’ ’ 

His grief calmed Eossi, and made him a 
little penitent. 

“You should n’t have broken your word, 
but I ’d not have done it if I had known 
you cared that much.” 

“I wish I were dead. I wish I were 
dead,” Silvio sobbed, rushing past his 
father and out of the room. 

Eossi ’s first impulse was to follow. 

“But no, I must n’t be too weak with 
him,” he thought. “I ’ll make it up to 
him when he ’s calmer.” 


The Broken Violin 


265 


Their voices had brought Leonora into 
the hall. 

‘ ^ Silvio, what ’s the matter ! ’ ’ she cried. 
The strange look on his face frightened 
her. 

He laughed wildly and held out some of 
the splintered wood. 

‘‘Here ’s all that ’s left of my violin. I 
wish I were dead,’’ he sobbed. 

‘ ‘ Oh, Silvio, ’ ’ she exclaimed starting to- 
ward him with open arms. 

“Don’t,” he cried. “I can’t bear it,” 
and to escape her sympathy, he rushed 
through the outer door, and downstairs in- 
to the street. 

“I ’ll never go back. I ’ll never go 
back, ’ ’ he moaned. 

Leonora waited irresolutely in the open 
doorway. As she stood thus, Eossi came 
into the hall. 

“Father, you ’ve driven Silvio away,” 
she cried accusingly. “I ’m afraid he ’ll 
never come back.” 

Her words stabbed his conscience afresh, 
but he would not let Leonora know. 


266 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Never fear, he ’ll come back all right,” 
and he strode into the front room. 

He threw himself down in a chair beside 
his desk, intending to sort out a few last 
papers, but he was too disturbed even for 
this. 

‘^He may not come back,” he thought 
with a sob, and sank his head in his hands 
on the desk. 

Leonora decided to rush after her 
brother, but when she reached the street, 
she saw that she was too late. Already 
Silvio was out of sight. 

At this moment a carriage drew up be- 
side the curb. ‘Ht ’s Hilda,” said Leonora 
to herself. ‘‘Perhaps she saw Silvio. If 
she did we can drive after him and bring 
him back. ’ ’ 

“Hilda,” she cried as the girl was step- 
ping from the carriage, “have you seen 
anything of Silvio!” 

Hilda with her arms full of bundles 
sprang down beside her. 

“No, is n’t he here? I ’m disappointed. 
I have a surprise for him.’^ 

“I wish I knew which way he ’s gone,” 


t 



268 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


thought Leonora anxiously, ^‘but no doubt 
Father ’s right. He ’ll come back soon. 
I ’ll not tell Hilda. There ’s no use of 
worrying her.” 

‘‘Why, Hilda,” she said, trying to ap- 
pear cheerful, “we did n’t expect to see 
you before we went to the boat. ’ ’ 

“I could n’t wait. But come, I ’ve some- 
thing to show you. ’ ’ 

Leonora led her upstairs and out to the 
dining room. Hilda placed her package on 
the table. 

“Leonora,” she cried joyously, “what 
would you like best of anything— something 
to wear I mean?” 

But Leonora was paying no attention. 
Hilda, however, did not mind. She eagerly 
unwrapped the largest package. 

“Shut your eyes, Leonora,” she com- 
manded. Then she drew from the paper a 
shimmering red silk gown. 

“Now open your eyes, Leonora. Is n’t 
it beautiful?” 

“Yes incleed, but what are you doing 
with it here?” 


The Broken Violin 


269 


heard you say once that you ’d give 
anything for a red silk dress.” 

“But it ’s not for me!” 

“Yes it is. When I was with your father, 
I sent Mrs. Mortimer most of the money 
I made. Well she had n’t spent a cent of 
it, and she ’s given it back to me. So I 
bought presents for all of you.” 

“I— I don’t know how to thank you, 
Hilda,” began Leonora. Ordinarily, she 
would have been voluble enough in the ex- 
pression of her delight, but now she was 
still anxious about Silvio. 

“Don’t thank me. Where ’s your 
father?” 

“In the sitting room.” 

Hilda picked up a package, and ran to 
the front room. Eossi did not turn as she 
entered. Hilda began to feel timid, but 
love had brought her to him, and she would 
not turn back. 

“Mr. Eossi,” she said softly. 

He did not hear her, but as she came 
toward him, he turned suddenly. 

“I thought it might be Silvio,” he ex- 
claimed. 


270 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


Hilda slipped one arm about bis neck. 

Ve brought you a present, dear Mr. 
Eossi. It ’s just a little way of thanking 
you for all you did for me. ’ ’ 

She held out the package, but he turned 
from her with a sob. 

‘‘You— you ’re not angry at me still, are 
you, Mr. Eossi?” 

“No, Hilda.” 

“What ’s the matter then, dear Mr. 
Eossi?” 

“Don’t ask me,” he cried savagely. 
Then to atone, he added, “You ’re a 
thoughtful girl to bring me a present. 
What is it?’^ 

“It ’s just a locket with my picture. I 
hoped you ’d like that. I have a gold watch 
for Silvio. Do you think he ’ll be pleased. 

“I— I hope so.” In Eossi ’s ears rang 
the words, “You might better have killed 
me, father. I wish I were dead. ’ ’ 

“Don’t you think he ’ll like a watch? If 
you don’t, I might change it for something 
else.” 

Eossi laughed bitterly. “Change it for 
a violin. That ’s the only thing he ’d like.” 


The Broken Violin 


271 


violin? But Silvio has a lovely 
violin. ’ ^ 

‘ ‘ No he has n ’t. I broke it. ’ ’ 

‘^Oh, Mr. Bossi!’^ 

‘‘You need n’t look so horrified. It ’s 
partly your fault,” he added brutally. 
‘ ‘ He promised if I ’d let you go, he ’d never 
play again, and— ’ ’ 

“Silvio promised that! Oh, Mr. Eossi, 
he should n’t have done that! I—” 

“I wish to God, I ’d never demanded it 
of him,” he cried springing to his feet. 
“He ’s gone and may never come hack. 
He should n’t have played, though. It 
drove me crazy. I snatched his violin and 
broke it. The look that came into his eyes 
haunts me. Silvio, come hack, I ’m sorry ! ’ ’ 
he cried, sinking into his chair again. 

Hilda felt utterly helpless. She knew 
even better than he what the loss of the 
violin would mean to Silvio. 

“If only I had money. I ’d get him a 
new violin, ’ ’ she thought. ‘ ‘ Oh why did I 
spend all my money? It would take a great 
deal to buy another such as he had, I know. 


272 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


and perhaps Mr. Rossi would n’t let him 
play anyway.” 

^‘Mr. Rossi,” she said in timid pleading, 
Silvio does come back, you ’ll he kind 
to him, won’t you?” 

^ ^ You think me a brute, too, Hilda? I— ” 

‘^Mr. Rossi!” she interrupted, pressing 
her cheek close to his, ‘indeed I don’t. It 
—it ’s only about music that you ’re hard, 
and Silvio loves music as much as I do. 
We can’t help it. It was horn in us, and 
it has to come out. Silvio did n’t mean to 
displease you, I know. He loves you, and 

^^Do you really think that, Hilda?” 

^‘Yes, only if you ’d he kind to him about 
his playing, he ’d be fonder of you.” 

^^But then he ’d want to leave me.” 
don’t believe it— not if you took an 
interest in his music. Why Mr. Rossi, you 
ought to be proud of Silvio, and encourage 
him to play. Oh. please let him play ! You 
will, won’t you?” 

‘H— I ’ll see when he comes back.” 

Thank you so much, Mr. Rossi,” she 


The Broken Violin 


273 


exclaimed, as if the matter were already 
settled. Then she hurried hack to Leonora. 

‘‘Leonora,” she cried, your father has 
told me about Silvio. When he comes hack, 
tell him not to feel too badly. I ’m going 
to do all I can for him. ’ ’ 

She picked up the package she had 
brought for Silvio. Then she hesitated 

“I’ll not tell Leonora. If I fail, she ’d 
be disappointed. ’ ’ 

So she simply kissed her saying, “I ’ll 
give Silvio his present at the boat. We ’ll 
be there early,” and in another moment 
she was gone. 

A little later she rushed wildly into the 
hotel room where Mrs. Mortimer was wait- 
ing for her. 

“Oh Mrs. Mortimer,” she sobbed, “I 
must have some more money. If you ’ll 
only let me have it, you ’ll never be sorry. 
I ’ll work day and night to earn it back for 
you, and I ’ll make it up to you if it takes 
me all the rest of my life.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


‘^ALL ASHOEe!^^ 

AILING hour was drawing 
dangerously near, but still 
Silvio had not returned. 
Rossi would have been in 
despair but for a new hope 
that suddenly came to him. 

‘ ‘ Silvio may have gone to the boat. I ’m 
going to see,’’ he cried excitedly to Leo- 
nora. ‘‘You ’ll have to stay here. We 
must n’t take the least chance of missing 
him. If he should come while I ’m gone, 
drive immediately to the wharf. The car- 
riage is waiting out in front for you now. 
But if I should find him, I ’ll telephone to 
you. Of course if we both fail, we ’ll not 
sail. I ’ll not leave this country until my 
boy is found. ’ ’ 

Rossi hurried away on his quest. 

Disappointment awaited him at his jour- 
ney’s end. Silvio was nowhere in sight. 

274 



‘All Ashore’ 


275 


But to make sure that his son had not come, 
Rossi went aboard the boat, and on up to 
his rooms. 

A moment afterward Leonora’s carriage 
came dashing up. She sprang out and 
Silvio followed close after her. 

‘‘Father ’ll be so happy to see you,” she 
whispered as they hurried along the pier. 
“If you had n’t come, it would have been 
an awful blow to him.” 

“I— would not have come if it had n’t 
been for you, ’ ’ muttered Silvio. He feared 
that he never could feel the same toward 
his father. 

“I don’t want to go inside,” he said 
when they reached the deck. “You can tell 
father. ’ ” 

Soon he beheld H51da with something 
bulky under her arm hurrying up the gang 
plank. Behind her were Mrs. Mortimer, 
Madame Von Amim, and Frieda. 

“There’s Silvio,” cried Hilda, She 
stopped a second and handed the package 
to Frieda, then flew onward to join Silvio. 

“Were late, but we could n’t help it,” 


276 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


she gasped, and, though she saw how un- 
happy he looked, she smiled. 

^‘Silvio, everything is coming out all 
right, she whispered. 

‘^She ^s going to say something now 
about my being a violinist. I wish she 
would n’t talk that way. I can’t hear it,” 
he thought, and turned his face from her. 

Where are your father and sister?” 
demanded Hilda. 

^‘They ’re inside. There they come 
now.” 

Eoissi’s joy was unmistakable, and he 
showed it not only in his face hut by his 
actions. 

^^My hoy, my hoy,” he cried, running to 
him with open arms, and embracing him 
in the impulsive Italian fashion. never 
was more frightened. I was afraid you 
had run away forever.” 

‘‘I— I did mean to,” stammered Silvio. 
‘‘Then I just could n’t.^’ 

“You do love me then, my hoy? That 
brought you hack to me, did n’t it?” 

Silvio scowled. “I-— I can’t lie to you, 


‘All Ashore’ 


277 


Father. I came back on account of Leo- 
nora.’’ 

‘‘Well, I thank Grod anyway,” Kossi 
cried fervently. “Now that you ’ve come, 
Silvio, I ’ll do anything to make you 
happy.” 

Silvio had no answering word, but Hilda 
smiled at Rossi, and her face was radiantly 
h^py. 

“You mean that, don’t you, Mr. Rossi? 

“Mean what, Hilda?” 

“That you ’ll do anything to make him 
happy. I know you mean it. I trust you.” 

She held a small package out to Silvio. 

“I hope you ’ll like this gift, Silvio. I 
bought it with some of the money I made 
while I was with you. ’ ’ 

Silvio opened the package, but his face 
expressed little pleasure. 

“It ’s a beautiful watch, Hilda,” he said, 
not to appear ungrateful. 

“You’d rather have it than anything 
else, would n’t you, Silvio?” 

His gaze faltered before hers. He could 
no longer keep the tears back. 

“Silvio, it ’s all right. Everything is all 


278 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


right, she cried, and then she turned and 
seized the parcel Frieda held. 

‘‘We ’ve brought you what you want 
most in all the world, Silvio. ’ ^ 

The shape of the parcel revealed to him 
(what the present was. 

“It ’s a violin,’^ he cried, his eyes once 
more alight. 

“Yes, Silvio. Mrs. Mortimer gave me 
the money for it, and Madame Von Amim 
helped us find it.’^ 

“I canT thank you, Hilda. I never ex- 
pected to be happy again, but now— 
Suddenly a new fear assailed him. 
‘ ‘ Father, may I keep it ? ’ ^ 

“Yes, my boy. I meant to buy you a vio- 
lin myself.’’ 

Silvio felt that heaven had come to earth 
for him. He could hardly wait to try 
his new instrument. 

Madame Von Arnim divined his impa- 
tience. She knew too that if the ice were 
broken while Eos si was in a softened mood, 
Silvio’s playing would be less of a trial to 
him in the future. 

“Let ’s go to your stateroom. I must 


‘All Ashore’ 


279 


have the pleasure of hearing Silvio before 
you sail.” 

So they hurried to Eossi’s room, which 
was one of the large ones on deck. There 
was plenty of space for them all to be 
seated. Silvio stood in the doorway. 

He drew his precious gift from its case, 
and eyed it reverently, hut also anxiously. 
He was almost afraid to draw the first note. 

^‘Supposing it ’s not a good violin,” he 
thought. 

What ’s the matter, Silvio? Why donT 
you begin?” asked Frieda. 

‘H— IVe got to see if it ’s keyed right, 
he faltered. 

Then softly he tuned it. This prelimi- 
nary work made him somewhat less anx- 
ious. Still the moment was a critical one. 
He raised his bow breathlessly, and with a 
long, eager stroke drew it across the 
strings. 

^^Ah!” he exiclaimed rapturously, and 
his face was again glorified. 

’s tone is perfect-richer even than my 
violin. I never can thank you/’ he added 
looking from Mrs. Mortimer to Hilda. 


280 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


‘‘Don’t try, Silvio. Just play for us,” 
Mrs. Mortimer answered. 

Back to his mind floated the tune that 
had made him break his promise in the 
morning. Without another word he began 
playing it. His new violin so inspired him 
that every one of his little audience realized 
to some extent the genius of the boy. 

‘ ‘ Silvio, ’ ’ Hilda exclaimed almost before 
the last note, “I never heard you play that 
before. Is it something new?” 

“Yes, it only came to me this morning.” 

“Came to you this morning?” inter- 
rupted Madame Von Arnim. “ What do 
you mean?” 

“I— I— why it just came into my head, 
that ’s all.” 

“You don’t mean you composed it?” 
cried Madame Von Arnim springing to her 
feet. “I can’t believe it. It ’s wonderful, 
wonderful. Mr. Eossi, you may well be 
proud of your boy. He ’ll yet make the 
name of Eossi famous all over the world. 
Silvio has a great future. Mark my words, 
Mr. Eossi, and do everything in your power 









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282 


Hilda of the Hippodrome 


to foster the genius of your boy. He could 
make a fortune now by playing. ^ ’ 

^^We already have a fortune, Madame. 

“All ashore,’^ come the call along the 
deck. 

Hilda joined Silvio. . 

“We met on a boat, and now we part on 
a boat. Is n^t it stranger^ she said. Be- 
fore he could speak, she answered herself. 

“It ^s very strange, but it ’s nice, and 
parting is better than meeting. For now 
we Ve grown to be good friends, and we ’ll 
never forget each other. And best of all, 
you ’re to be a violinist some day.” 

He smiled back at her now. “It does 
seem as if our dream were coming true, 
does n’t it, Hilda?” Then he threw up his 
cap. 

“Hurrah for the girl who climbed the 
mast. If it had n’t been for that, we would 
never have met.” 

As Hilda slipped her hand into Mrs. 
Mortimer’s, she was well content that she 
was no longer “Hilda of the Hippo- 
drome. ’ ’ 

Once more came the cry, “All ashore!” 






MISS MINERVA aB 
WIIUAM GREEN HILL 

By FRANCES BOYD CALHOUN 

Screamingly ridiculous situations are mingled with bits of 
patbos in tbis delightfully humorous tale of tbe South. 

I 

you remember “Helen’s Babies”? and “Mrs. Wiggs”? 
Do you recall “Tom Sawyer” and “Huckleberry Finn”? 
Miss Minerva and William Green Hill is every bit as 

genuine as any of these. 

^ It contains a delightful little love story, but deals principally 
with William Green Hill, a six-year-old boy with sunny hair, 
a cherub’s face, and a wonderful dialect acquired from the plan- 
tation negroes among whom be formerly lived. In the narration 
of the activities of Billy and his associates, Jimmy, Frances and 
Lina, the author shows an intimate knowledge of the workings 
of the juvenile mind and makes the pages sparkle with laughs. 

From start to finish diere is no let-up in die fun. Any normally 
constituted reader of the hook will soon he in a whirl of laugh- 
ter over “ Sanctified Sophy, ” “Uncle Jimmy-Jawed Jup’ter,” 
“Aunt Blue-Gum Tempy’s Peruny Pearline’s chillens, ” and the 
other quaint characters of this fascinating hook. Their hearts 
will go out to lovable little Billy, and they will he convulsed 
by the quaint speeches of had Jimmy, who says to his chijim : 
“You all time gotter get little boys in trouble. You ’bout the 
smart- Alexist jack-rabbit they is.” 


Small 12mo. ; 213 pages; l)ound in scarlet 
cloth cover attractively stamped ; 22 clever 

illustrations by Angus MacDonall. Price $1.00. 


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AU6 13 1910 




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One copy del. to Cat. Div. 


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